


Inevitable

by bubble_tea_and_bonzai



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Akaashi Keiji is Bad at Feelings, Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, But it kinda feels like it at times lmao ngl, Childhood Friends, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Insecure Akaashi Keiji, Insecurity, Jealous Akaashi Keiji, Jealous Bokuto Koutarou, Jealousy, M/M, Misunderstandings, Not Cheating, Platonic Soulmates, Rating May Change, Romantic Soulmates, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, i mean it's not literal cheating tho, there's a lot of misunderstandings and hurt here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:49:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 51,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27531781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bubble_tea_and_bonzai/pseuds/bubble_tea_and_bonzai
Summary: “It doesn’t have to mean anything. We just-- we met so young. Most people don’t even meet their soulmates until they’re in college, Keiji. Or-- at least highschool, yaknow?” he paused and finally glanced over, “Right?”  Keiji stayed silent, positive he would vomit if he tried to answer.“Come on, Keiji. Aren’t you afraid we’ll get bored of each other?”Or the soulmate AU where Bokuto makes Akaashi an unfortunate offer.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji & Bokuto Koutarou, Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Akaashi Keiji/Original Male Character(s), Bokuto Koutarou/Original Character(s)
Comments: 213
Kudos: 362
Collections: BOKUAKA





	1. Inevitably Bored.

**Author's Note:**

> hi, real quick just a few things!  
> 1\. pls be gentle, this is my first time publishing a fic since I was 12. 
> 
> 2\. also please be patient with me with the formatting, i've never uploaded to AO3 before, just read a lot! 
> 
> 3\. for the sake of plot, i changed a few things (like where certain characters go to school, when they met, etc.) 
> 
> 4\. also thank u to the author @KyuukaKoinu for the idea to add hyperlinks to songs in.

After spending practically their whole lives together, Keiji was certain he could predict Koutarou’s every move. How could he not? They were soulmates, childhood best friends, teammates. Keiji practically knew everything about him. And despite how much of a wild card he could be, Koutarou was a pretty consistent thing in Keiji’s life. Same loudmouth, same obnoxious (endearing) personality, even the same wild haircut. Nothing could’ve prepared him for this conversation. 

“It’s just sex,” Koutarou’s voice was surprisingly nonchalant for saying something so devastating. He stared down at the schoolyard, intentionally ignoring his soulmate’s eyes. Keiji, on the other hand, couldn’t look anywhere other than him. He felt as if a vortex had opened inside him, sinking his heart past his lungs and into a storm at the bottom of his stomach. 

“It doesn’t have to mean anything. We just- we met so young. Most people don’t even meet their soulmates until they’re in college, Keiji. Or- at least highschool, yaknow?” he paused and finally glanced over, “Right?” Keiji stayed silent, positive he would vomit if he tried to answer. The bright-eyed boy sucked in his cheek and scanned his setter’s face for a minute, searching for something. He furrowed his brow. Guess he didn’t find it. 

“Come on, Keiji. Aren’t you afraid we’ll get bored of each other?” And wow, Keiji didn’t know it was possible to  _ literally  _ feel your heart break. 

_ No,  _ he thought miserably.  _ I could never be bored of you.  _ Koutarou was the love of his life, they were made for each other- even had the marks to prove it. He was the one person in Keiji’s life that made everything feel safe, brought color into his world. Did Koutarou not feel the same? 

“I…” Koutarou perked up, excited to hear Keiji speak for the first time in minutes, “is there someone else?” The loud boy blinked, before erupting in laughter. 

“No!” he said boisterously, “Not yet, of course. Would never do anything without talking to my vice captain, Keiji, you know that. ‘Sides, I already told you it’s not like that. I’m not looking for a girlfriend or a boyfriend or anything… I already have you.” 

_ Yes, you do. You already have me. Why am I not enough?  _ This couldn’t be good for his mental health. Or self-esteem. Or any part of him at all.

The bell rang, disrupting only the silence but leaving the tension. The younger boy shot up, grabbing his bag and hauling ass toward the door. He didn’t think his heart could handle anymore of this conversation. 

“Hey, Ke- wait. Keiji, wait.” Koutarou reached out, looping his fingers around a slim wrist. Keiji paused, hoping this was where his soulmate admitted it was all a joke- that of course he’d never want anyone else. It had to be a joke. He kept his head down and waited, dark curls brushing into his eyes. 

“Does this mean, I mean, are you- are you not okay with it?” Koutarou stuttered through his words, his earlier confidence receding back into his throat. 

_ Of course I’m not okay with this. Why would I ever be okay with this? I don’t want either of us to sleep with other people, and I don’t want you to want to either.  _ Apparently he wasn’t kidding. 

The dark-haired boy began to shake his head, partially in denial and partially in distress. He opened his mouth, ready to shut down the ridiculous idea and spend the rest of his life convincing himself this conversation didn’t happen. At least, until he felt the soothing swipe of a finger along his wrist. He glanced up, meeting Koutarou’s eyes head-on for the first time since he proposed the idea. Warm, safe, amber eyes. Eyes that bore his soul to the world and kept him from hiding anything from Keiji. Despite the stutter in his words, his setter could clearly see his desperation. A brief pause, then--

“Is this really what you want?” he spoke softly, hoping Koutarou couldn’t hear the crack in his voice. His soulmate tightened his hold, nodding eagerly. 

“Yeah Keiji,” he lifted the shorter boy’s hand to his mouth, “I think it will be good for us.” He mumbled the last few words against Keiji’s skin, juxtaposing the sweet gesture with such a heart-breaking sentence. His fingers smoldered where lips met skin, a bittersweet burn rather than the steady warmth he had come to associate with his soulmate's touch. 

Keiji released the air he’d been letting reside in his lungs. 

[ **“Okay.”** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RE87rQkXdNw)

\--------------------

It was in fact, not okay. Keiji generally let his negative emotions roll off his back, exploring them briefly before shoving them away. He figured it couldn’t be healthy to fixate on things too much. Today though, was different. The storm whirling in his stomach had slowed into a sinking feeling, still unable to come to terms with the shipwreck inside of him. 

Koutarou, on the other hand, was clearly not experiencing the same inner turmoil. After finishing their talk, the loud boy had walked him to his statistics course and chattered the whole way, oblivious to Keiji’s inner conflict. When the bell rang signaling the end of class, like clockwork, he was there ready to accompany Keiji to chemistry. 

Keiji stared at the chalkboard blankly. What topic were they on again? Stereochemistry?  _ Who cares.  _ He thought blandly.  _ I’ll just get the notes from someone.  _ This was a blatant lie, he didn’t even have any friends in this class.  _ As if I have any friends other than Koutarou.  _

Keiji felt a brief flash of discomfort at the thought. Sure, his teammates liked him, but it was obvious to him that that was more out of respect than friendship. Most people, including his teammates, were intimidated by Keiji. They all preferred the company of Koutarou. Their vice captain was too untouchable; cold and bland where his soulmate was warm and exuberant. 

“Hey,” a voice shattered the barrier of thoughts. Keiji glanced around the room, finding it vacant besides his teacher, who was slaving away grading. He glanced over his shoulder to meet a pair of deep set eyes. Taunting brown ones, peeking out from a set of raised brows. 

Although he struggled to put a name to the face, Keiji was quite familiar with the boy. 

“Ah, yes…” he trailed off, wracking his brain to come up with something. Arakawa? Akiyama? He knew their last names had to be close alphabetically, as he sat behind Keiji in every class they shared. Hoping for the best, he guessed. 

“Akikawa-san?” Keiji asked, not even bothering to hide the lilt at the end. Normally, it would’ve bothered him to be so impolite, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care today. The bleached-blonde stayed silent as the air became thick with tension.  _ Oh god, I guessed wrong.  _ Maybe he did care a bit. 

“You’ve been staring at the board since class ended. You know, like, ten minutes ago,” he finally said, shit-eating words oozing from his smile. Relief and panic competed for Keiji’s emotions. On one hand, he must have gotten his classmate’s name right, therefore saving himself the embarrassment of explaining how he could’ve possibly forgotten that after years of sitting in front of him. On the other hand-  _ ten minutes?  _

_ Koutarou.  _ The dark-haired boy’s chest ached at the thought of his name. Much like how he walked him to class, he could always depend on the loudmouth to return at the end to take him to the next one, or in this case, volleyball practice. 

“Oh, thank you-” he said, snatching his backpack as he bolted for the door. 

“Ashikaga-kun,” the blonde finished, interrupting him with amusement glittering in his eyes. Keiji nodded, both bewildered by the informality and mortified by the information that, no, he had not in fact guessed correctly before. 

“Yes. Thank you, Ashikaga-san,” he corrected. As he reached the door, he heard a mutter, 

“Ever so polite, Akaashi-kun.” Keiji refused to acknowledge that. Although grateful, he didn’t have the time or emotional strength to deal with this any longer. 

\--------------------

Cracking the door behind him, Keiji scanned the hallway for wild hair and golden eyes amongst the few stragglers left. Relief, quickly followed by a twinge of  _ something  _ filled his heart when he found what he was looking for. 

Reliable as always, Koutarou had waited for him. Other than washing him out a bit, not even the painful fluorescent lights and rusted lockers could make him less than the most beautiful person Keiji had ever seen. Although nearly matched in height with him, practically everything about Koutarou just made him feel _bigger_ than the rest of the world. It wasn’t just the broad shoulders and thick arms- though they certainly helped. It was everything; from the meticulously styled mess of a hairstyle and the way his (almost) too loud voice carried, down to the tender heart and toothy smiles he shared with everyone. Though, as the twinge quickly developed into a sharp twist, maybe Keiji needed to rethink the merit of that last trait.

Gazing up fondly at the love of his life was a small brunette, eyes crinkled in mirth at the goofy smile Koutarou had on his face. The pair stood across the hall, lavender skirt swishing as she giggled and stuffed her backpack while Koutarou leaned on the locker next to her and rambled. 

The dark-haired boy was just far enough away where the only thing he could hear was the sound of his own heart breaking. He knew that logically, he had no reason to be making assumptions about this girl and Koutarou. The volleyball captain was extremely popular, and it wasn’t uncommon to see him goofing around with other students. Still, after their lunch conversation, Keiji couldn’t push the suspicions out of his mind. It was as if he was seeing every single interaction of Koutarou’s in a new light, picking them apart under the irrational microscope in his head. 

_ Who is she?  _

He had never seen Koutarou talking to her before.

_ How do they know each other? _

There’s no way they met in class. She was definitely younger than him.

_ Can Koutarou see how clearly she’s flirting with him? _

Did he like it?

_ Is he flirting with her? _

Did he like her?

_ Is she the one Koutarou was thinking of earlier? _

No.  __

_ He said himself he didn’t have anyone in mind. _

He could’ve been lying. 

_ But she is pretty… _

Keiji wasn’t blind.

_ Really pretty. _

And clearly, neither was Koutarou.

_ What if he doesn’t want to hurt your feelings? What if he doesn’t love you anymore but he doesn’t want to hurt you? What if you were holding him back from being with someone he was actually attracted to? _

Deep down, Keiji was aware the last concern was unfounded. He knew that at the very least, Koutarou was  _ definitely  _ attracted to him. He put a new meaning to the phrase “wandering hands” whenever they were alone. This small comfort was blinded by his insecurities, the pain in his chest festering into knotted ropes in his stomach. 

_ Attraction doesn’t mean love.  _

_ He’s bored of you.  _

_ If he loved you, he wouldn’t need anyone else to keep him interested.  _

Keiji shook his dark curls into his face, praying they were as successful at hiding him as they made him feel, and booked it out the nearest exit. Grabbing his phone from his back pocket, he made an executive decision for his own sake. 

**SENT TO: Mom (2:47 PM)**

**Can you pick me up?**

**_Seen 2:48 PM_ **

**RECEIVED: Mom (2:48 PM)**

**Keiji? Don’t you have practice, baby?**

**_Marked as Seen 2:48 PM_ **

**SENT TO: Mom (2:48 PM)**

**No. It got canceled.**

**_Seen 2:49 PM_ **

**RECEIVED: Mom (2:49 PM)**

**Why isn’t Kou-chan driving you?**

**_Marked as Seen 2:49 PM_ **

**SENT TO: Mom (2:53 PM)**

**Please.**

**_Seen 2:53 PM_ **

**RECEIVED: Mom (2:53 PM)**

**Be there in 15.**

**_Marked as Seen 2:54 PM_ **

  
  


As soon as he saw the black subaru pull up, Keiji was ducking inside. Soft blue eyes, much lighter than his, gazed in concern. He scowled. She continued to stare as he buckled in, studying his expression for any hints, but was met with a dark wall of curls instead. She turned her head back to the road. Without a word, Keiji felt a small hand stroking his wrist. 

Despite what most would expect, Keiji was quite the momma’s boy. Other than Koutarou, no one quite understood Keiji like she did. And yes, Keiji was aware of how lame that sounded. But, in his defense, it was difficult not to be with a parent like her. 

Her soft  [ **humming** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jhbwiUsZ8QY) soothed the ache in his soul, even if only a little. She leaned over and began to twirl an inky curl around her middle finger. Keiji felt his shoulders melt and scowl soften. 

After a moment, he realized two critical details: one, they had apparently already arrived at home and were currently sitting in a parked car for no reason and two, he was about three seconds from exploding.

The teenager shifted toward his mother,

“Mom?” his throat was so tight it was nearly a whisper. 

“Yes, Keiji?” his heart clenched at the term of endearment.

“Practice wasn’t canceled.” She hummed again in agreement.

“I know, baby. Let’s get you inside,” she said softly. Keiji squeezed his eyes shut and released a shaky sigh as he opened the passenger door. 

\--------------------

The family of two lived in a modest traditional home in a suburb within reasonable distance of Keiji’s school. Mai had to drive a little farther for work, but never seemed to complain. Their proximity to town hadn’t been the deciding factor in location though. No, that could be attributed to the chaos three houses to the left. 

The mother and son duo had been swept into the lives of the Bokutos shortly after the passing of Keiji’s father. Following the death of her husband, the young widow found herself overwhelmed in everything from hospital to funeral bills. With no other choice, she was forced to work overtime, desperate to find suitable childcare for her toddler. 

“There’s this in-house daycare,” her coworker Yumi, another single mother, mentioned to her the day after an incidence Mai had with leaving Keiji past closing at the local daycare. 

“They’re super accommodating when I have to stay late, will even let me leave Aki overnight without paying extra.” The widow had never heard sweeter words. 

Within less than a day, Mai had already called and scheduled Keiji to start attending the next morning. 

_ Maybe I can finally catch up on these bills,  _ she thought to herself, hopeful for the first time in awhile. 

When she dropped her two-year old off the next morning, she found herself stunned by the atmosphere of the daycare. The walls of the house were covered in artwork, everything from child’s scribbles to more intricate patterns. Toys and children of all ages littered the ground, a loud but steady chatter filling the room as they argued over who got to play with which action figure.

Mai’s thoughts were interrupted by a tiny hand curling around her face. She turned to the child in her arms, a soft smile taking over her tired eyes. Nothing would ever compare to the beauty of the dark starling eyes and mane of curls her boy had. 

He stared at her, inquisitively. Keiji was considered a stoic child by most, known for giving soft brief smiles and wide-eyed glances on occasion. Not quite the norm for a two-year old. But despite not talking yet, his eyes told her all she needed to know. 

“Ah, you must be Akaashi-san! And is this little fellow Keiji-chan?” A loud voice said, catching the attention of both sets of blue eyes. A short woman, likely not much older than Mai, stood there- and what a sight she was. Long blonde hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail, currently clutched in the hands of the three toddlers that were clinging to her back. 

“Hello Bokuto-san, yes, that’s us. It’s so lovely to…,” Mai trailed off, staring in shock as her baby reached out toward Bokuto-san, nearly falling out of her arms to do so. She had never seen him look so eager. 

“Why aren’t you a sweet boy,” she gasped, snatching the chubby fingers and blowing a raspberry against them. Keiji giggled.  **_Keiji giggled_ ** _.  _ Mai gaped at the pair. 

“I-... wow. He’s taken quite a liking to you.” she said, unable to hide how flabbergasted she was by the scene. The blonde squatted down before releasing the triad on her back. As she stood up, she opened her arms to Mai, silently offering to take Keiji. Mai handed him over with little hesitation.

“Well hello there, pretty eyes,” she cooed, coiling her fingers in his curls much like his mother liked to. He stared back, wide-eyed and silent. Little fingers wrapped around one of the straps of her overalls and began to tug, flaxen strands of hair also caught in his gentle grasp. The movement brushed some hair off of her shoulder, revealing a small soulmark of a firecracker above her collarbone. 

“I… um… I have a shift starting soon. I’m not…” his mother trailed off, struggling to maintain her stream of thought. Although Keiji was never rude, he was never quite that friendly either. At least, not to anyone but her. 

“Don’t worry about it, Akaashi-san. We’ll take care of him,” the blonde tucked a strand of hair behind Keiji’s ear as he began to reach for his mother again. “You can pick him up whenever your shift ends, I understand how it is. My husband works in the medical field as well.” Mai felt another wave of relief. This was definitely a good choice.

After another bout of kisses placed upon Keiji’s cheeks, as she thanked Bokuto-san profusely, Mai waved goodbye to the pair and began her drive to work. 

_ Strange how things always seem to work out.  _

\---

Strange indeed. When Mai returned to the Bokuto household that night, she was met with the best surprise she had gotten in a long time. 

Curled up on the couch was her little Keiji, a slightly taller boy snuggled up to him. The boy was jabbering nonsense in his ear, barely making any sense to anyone other than himself. Well, maybe himself and Keiji, if the intent stare was anything to go by. Every other word, he was patting at the newly formed mark on Keiji’s neck, lining it up with his own matching mark that lay at the dead center of his palm. Golden eyes lit up in excitement every time the marks connected, babbling with delight. 

The rest of the room had cleared out, leaving the sight for only the two mothers. 

“They met after you left. Kou came running in here like a mad man, almost like he knew what he was looking for,” Bokuto-san said, unable to keep the excitement out of her voice. 

“His name is Kou?” Mai asked softly. 

“Koutarou,” Bokuto-san corrected. “That’s my son. You should’ve seen my husband’s face when he got home and found them like this- he nearly cried.”

Mai could definitely relate to that, tears already beginning to spill over. 

“This,” she cleared her throat, “is so wonderful. I can’t even- I’m a nurse, Bokuto-san. I meet a lot of people with a lot of stories. Do you know how rare it is to meet your soulmate this young?” She stared fondly as her chubby little toddler reached for Koutarou’s head, fascinated by the black and white streaks. 

“ [ **Kou** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UuA3mDHEbTk) ,” Keiji mumbled, casual, as if he wasn’t experiencing one of the most important moments of his life. The mothers watched as his attention shifted from Koutarou’s wild hair to his fingers, playing with them until they unfurled. 

Keiji prodded at the soulmark in the middle of his soulmate’s palm with clumsy movements. Gold and blue swirled around in intricate patterns, creating a small sunburst right in the center. The curly-haired boy smiled softly, humming little sounds here and there as Koutarou trapped his fingers with his own. 

Their loft in the city _ had _ become quite expensive on a single mother’s salary…

Akaashi Mai was certain of what needed to be done. 

\-------------------- 

His mother had quickly drawn a bath for him. Normally Keiji would’ve grumbled about being babied, ignoring his mother’s cries of ‘but you’ll always be my baby!’, but he didn’t have it in him today. 

Like the angel she was, Mai asked zero questions, even at the sight of tears. 

“I don’t need to head back in to work tonight, sweetheart, Shiro-san is covering my shift. I’ll be downstairs if you need anything,” she pecked his forehead and left him to his bath. Keiji tried to ignore the flash of guilt at the thought of his mother missing work for him. 

_ All over you being jealous.  _ He sighed, slouched over the edge of the tub with his fingers trailing over the rug.

_ I don’t know how to keep his attention on me,  _ he thought desperately.  _ When did he start looking at other people like that? How long has he even wanted this?  _ A frenzied sense of unease swirling in his stomach. 

It was a strange thing for Keiji to feel this uncertain about their relationship. Before today, he had never even considered that it could be one-sided. Even Koutarou’s mother, Hina-san, always said Koutarou looked at Keiji as if he was the sole thing keeping the world turning. 

Keiji was suddenly wondering how much of Koutarou’s awe of him was platonic. He had heard of platonic soulmates before- they certainly weren’t nonexistent- but they weren’t nearly as common as romantic soulmates and even more rarely unrequited. And though Keiji was no longer positive about Koutarou’s feelings for him, he was more than certain of his own-

There was nothing in this world that could’ve made him love Bokuto Koutarou less. 

Inevitably, the heat from the water combined with the exhausting reality of these thoughts brought a fog over his head, lulling the teenager to sleep. 

\---

When he awoke, it was to the feeling of a calloused thumb stroking his face. 

“Mmh…” he grumbled, still drowsy. Bleary blue eyes cracked open to stare at the sight before him. 

Crouched on his bathroom rug was his soulmate, still wearing his school uniform. Golden eyes were only a few inches away. 

“Hi there, sleeping beauty,” he said in an unusually soft attempt to preserve the intimate atmosphere.

“Kou? Wha…” he trailed off, leaning into the touch as he realized Koutarou was cupping his neck to connect their soulmarks. Keiji’s heart practically had to restart. 

“I couldn’t find you after school and you weren’t answering my texts, so I called your mom. Auntie said you weren’t feeling well,” he kept his voice quiet, as if speaking any louder would shatter the moment. Keiji turned his head to press a kiss onto the center of his soulmate’s palm to ignore the agitation he felt at the mention of earlier. 

“My stomach hurt,” he lied. “Shouldn’t you be at practice, Kou?” the taller boy shrugged. 

“Nah. Konoha can be in charge for a day,” he said mildly, “What kinda guy would I be if I didn’t make sure my soulmate was okay?” 

Keiji hated this. He hated how easily Koutarou could just waltz in acting like nothing happened, say some unintentionally sweet words, and set the younger boy’s heart ablaze. 

“Mm. You’d be a responsible captain,” Keiji teased. 

“Keiijiiii,” Koutarou whined. “Let me woo you.” 

_ I’m already wooed. You don’t even need to try.  _ Of course, he couldn’t actually  **_say_ ** that. 

Keiji closed his eyes again, moving to rest his head on the bicep he left draped over the side of the tub. After a few moments, the sound of scuffling and fabric filled the silent room. He peeked through his lashes, surprised to find Koutarou pulling his shirt over his head.

“Koutarou,” he spluttered. “My mom is downstairs!” His soulmate let out a booming laugh.

“Well,  _ yeah _ . We’re not gonna do anything! Besides, we cuddle all the time,” he said, clearly missing the point.

“Not naked in the tub.  _ With my mother downstairs _ ,” he insisted once again despite his weakening resolve. It was kind of hard to say no to cuddling with Koutarou after the day he’d had. 

_ Even if it was his fault your day sucked.  _

“Hey, she’s the one who let me up. Come on, scooch over.” 

Keiji put on a show of sighing as he moved over, making room for the big oaf behind him. But despite Koutarou insisting they “weren’t gonna do anything”, he felt his soulmate cop a feel of his thigh as they settled in.

“Watch it,” Keiji scolded. “We shouldn’t even be sitting like this with her downstairs.” 

“But Keiji, baby,  _ it’s cold, _ ” he bitched, unhappy with the temperature of the water, “I’m just trying to snuggle.”

“It’s lukewarm at worst, Koutarou.” He flushed at the juvenile word despite himself. “And we are ‘snuggling’.” 

Koutarou grumbled, nosing at the mark behind Keiji’s left ear. 

Keiji reached a hand back, sliding long fingers into dry hair and stroking along the back of his soulmate's skull. The tall boy hummed in response. 

Wrapped up in each other and tucked away from the world, it was easy to ignore the pain he felt earlier. After all, Keiji was never very good at holding a grudge against Koutarou.


	2. Inevitably Persistent.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "He couldn’t believe they were talking about him like this- as if he were some little mascot that followed Koutarou around, worshipping the ground he walked on."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello again! I have a list of notes & stuff I wanted to acknowledge real quick:
> 
> 1\. this is prolly gonna be between 4 and 6 chapters, at least that's what I'm thinking rn. 
> 
> 2\. i changed where certain characters go to school for the sake of the plot (specifically, Kuroo & Kenma)
> 
> 3\. ik they say each other's names a lot and it's because they literally do in the show- also people's names are written in the way he actually thinks them, not necessarily the way he says their names (ex: kuroo vs. kuroo-san)
> 
> 4\. pls listen to at least the last song i linked bc it makes me think of this story so much
> 
> 5\. i decided i hate the way the first chapter is written. i like how I did this one more.
> 
> also i keep forgetting to link my tumblr  
> https://www.tumblr.com/blog/bubble-tea-and-biodiversity

Keiji desperately tried not to think about it. He really did. But more often than not, he found himself coming back to their conversation. If Koutarou thought yesterday was no big deal, then why couldn’t he? It wasn’t like he actually planned on following through with their agreement. He didn’t want to. And maybe Koutarou wouldn’t either. 

The pair had a routine, and even with Keiji feeling strange, it went uninterrupted. They woke up, spending more nights together than not, and went to school early to meet up with some teammates. Koutarou had been driving him practically everywhere since the beginning of third year. Keiji found comfort in the normalcy of their morning. 

_Nothing needs to change._

“You feeling any better today, Akaashi-kun?” Kuroo asked, a little too close. Keiji shoved his face away, unbothered by the proximity. 

“I’m fine, Kuroo-san,” Keiji said, “I was just tired.” Kuroo raised an unconvinced eyebrow. 

“The way Bo made it sound, I would’ve thought you were dying,” the older boy snorted. From across the table, their sandy-haired teammate messed his hair and pulled it into two hornlike shapes, jutting his lower lip out to complete the look. 

“But, but, Kuroo, his _tummy_ hurt,” Konoha whined in a falsetto. Kuroo snickered at the impression while their vice captain’s cheeks flushed a pretty pink. Konoha, proud of their reactions, continued,

“But what if he’s _sick,_ Konoha? Who will set for me at the game tonight? Who will I…” he glanced at Kuroo, who smirked readily. 

“ _..._ **_snuggle,_ ** _”_ the pair said in sync before howling with laughter. 

“Stop.” Keiji scolded, feeling both embarrassed and defensive for his soulmate. “You both look stupid.” 

_God. Does Kou have to tell Kuroo-san_ **_everything?_ **He thought grumpily. 

“What, you don’t like his hair, Akaashi-kun? Doesn’t get you going unless it’s on a beefcake like Bokuto?” Kuroo teased. Keiji scowled in order to hide his mortification. He was saved by two big arms, wrapping around his shoulders and caging him in. 

“Are you guys pickin’ on Keiji again?” Koutarou said, his lips turning down into a pout eerily similar to Konoha’s impression. He buried his nose in curls and nuzzled. Keiji basked in the affection, cheeks darkening even more. 

“God, this is what I’m talking about. It’s like watching your parents,” Kuroo groaned dramatically. Keiji wrinkled his nose.

“You’re older than me, Kuroo-san.” 

“Shut up, you know what I mean. You guys are practically married,” Kuroo said, Konoha nodding in agreement. Koutarou stiffened around him. He slowly peeled his arms out of Keiji’s grasp and shifted in the seat next to him, his back rigid against the plastic chair. Keiji struggled to hide his hurt.

_They were just teasing. Does the thought of being married to me bother him that much?_

As their conversation shifted away from the soulmates and onto a new topic, Keiji kept glancing over in concern. Koutarou had been absolutely detached for a few minutes now, face scrunched as if he’d eaten a rotten grape, but Kuroo and Konoha couldn’t be more oblivious to the weird atmosphere. 

“Right, Bokuto?” Konoha’s face was red from laughing at whatever Kuroo had said. Koutarou blinked at him, then turned back to Keiji. Konoha’s eyes widened at the obvious dismissal. 

“Did’ja find anyone for our deal, Keiji?” Koutarou asked. His face was blank, but Keiji could hear the tightness in his voice.

_What?_

“Our… deal?” He couldn’t possibly be talking about what Keiji was thinking. There was no way he had the gall to bring this up in front of other people, better yet, _their teammates._

“Yeah, what we talked about yesterday,” he said, nodding in encouragement. His boldness made Keiji jolt. What followed was possibly the most uncomfortable ten seconds in the history of man- Absolute, dead silence. Koutarou tilted his head as more time passed without an answer, unable to read the room. Kuroo and Keiji were both openly gaping at their captain at this point. Keiji was still struggling to wrap his brain around _what the hell he was thinking_ while Konoha’s eyes flickered between them nervously. 

“Bro… maybe now’s not the time to talk about this?” Kuroo broke the silence tentatively. Keiji snapped his head to look at him and then back at his soulmate.

“About _this?_ ” Keiji hissed, “You told _Kuroo?”_ Koutarou blanched, as if stunned by the reaction. The boy in question sucked air in his mouth, letting it whistle between his teeth as his eyes bounced between the soulmates. Keiji almost never dropped the honorifics. It had taken him _years_ to stop calling Koutarou “Koutarou-san”. 

“Why would I not tell Kuroo?” he asked with furrowed eyebrows. Kuroo winced, able to see Koutarou’s mistake even if he couldn’t. 

“Guys,” Konoha tried to break the tension but was failing with his awkward laughter, “I feel like I’m missing some context here.” Koutarou turned to him with a passive face as if he hadn’t just practically lit the lunch table on fire. 

“Oh, Keiji didn’t tell you? We’re gonna start-” 

“Bokuto, seriously man, _stop.”_ All of the previous discomfort was gone from Kuroo’s voice as he let out the stern order. He glanced at Keiji again, inspecting his face. The younger boy schooled his hurt into his infamous blank expression. Koutarou was visibly growing more irritated the longer Kuroo stared at his soulmate. 

“What? What’s that face? I don’t get the issue,” he finally said, frustrated. 

At that, Kuroo abruptly stood. He tugged on his captain’s arm, gesturing toward the hallway. 

“Dude, come on,” he insisted. Koutarou let him drag him along with little resistance, only glancing back at his soulmate. Keiji averted his gaze. 

The table returned to silence, Keiji looking anywhere other than his fellow underclassmen. His throat began to tighten as the quiet stretched on. 

“So… uh…” Keiji grabbed his backpack off the floor and shot up from the chair, knocking it back a little. 

“Excuse me, Konoha-san. I need to get to class,” Keiji lied despite the fact they both knew the bell wouldn’t ring for several more minutes. Konoha nodded, scratching the side of his head. 

“Uh, okay ‘Kaashi. See you later tonight.” 

Keiji walked toward the set of doors next to the ones Kuroo and Koutarou had left through. Of course he knew it wasn’t good to eavesdrop, knew that his soulmate needed his privacy, but the swirling sense of apprehension was back from yesterday and it was calling the shots. Keiji gently pushed one of the door’s open, looking around for the pair. The two stood to the right of the doors, talking in low voices and shaking heads. Keiji struggled to make out their conversation.

 _“No, Bo, I don’t... stupid...gonna push him...”_ Kuroo was leaning in, trying to keep his voice quiet. 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Koutarou hissed in a normal tone. He glanced around anxiously, likely realizing how loud he was. Keiji quickly slid back, pulling the door shut with him. After a few beats, he cracked it back open.

_“...know what’s gonna happen if I don’t do this...other people, Kuroo...leaves...”_

_God damn it._ Keiji had no idea what they were talking about. Apparently, no, teenage boys _can’t_ hear people whispering ten feet away from them. He applied a little more force, pushing the door open a little more. 

“What are you talking about? You need to just tell him the truth. Don’t you think this whole deal is a little unfair to Akaashi-kun? The kid is _obsessed_ with you, you’ve got him wrapped around your finger,” Kuroo insisted. Koutarou looked uncomfortable. Keiji just felt sick. 

_Kid._ He couldn’t believe they were talking about him like this- as if he were some little mascot that followed Koutarou around, worshipping the ground he walked on.

 _They’re not wrong,_ a little voice in the back of his head reminded him. Keiji nearly snarled at the thought. He pushed through the doors, bolting in the opposite direction in the hope they wouldn’t notice him.

The world around him was smeared red as he stormed toward the second year wing. All the gears had clicked into place for Keiji and he suddenly understood what was going on here. Koutarou wasn’t afraid of growing bored of Keiji, _he was never that interested._ They were never on equal-footing as soulmates and they never would be. Keiji was hopelessly in love with someone who _pitied_ him. 

Koutarou may have loved him, but he wasn’t [**_in love_**](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W7nmB20qJv4) with him. 

\---------------------

His phone had been blowing up ever since he left the cafeteria. The vibrations were getting to be a bit much as he struggled to pay attention in his Lit class. Although he couldn’t be certain, it wasn’t hard to guess who it was- because for the first time in a long time, Keiji hadn’t let Koutarou walk him to class. Koutarou was clearly noticing his absence and Keiji couldn’t find it in himself to care. 

_I’m not your pet. I don’t need you to hold my hand and walk me places and tell me you love me._ He fiddled with his fingers. It was uncomfortable to reflect on how heavily he relied on Koutarou, just how _much_ time they spent together. The more he thought about it, the less surprised he felt that Koutarou was trying to pull away. 

Keiji had always considered their relationship equal, a mutual give and take. But his new understanding about their dynamic changed things. 

_How long have you been following him around like a lost puppy?_

He sifted through memories, examining them under a new lens. How many times had he intruded, assumed he was welcome wherever his soulmate was invited? Or insisted they refrain from attending something because _he_ felt antisocial? And Koutarou, like the sweetheart he was, always let him. 

_It doesn’t help that you’re not very exciting._

Keiji sighed, trying to subtly massage his temples without alerting his teacher. His head was starting to hurt. 

_He really doesn’t need me around._

That was the issue though, wasn’t it? You kind of _did_ need your soulmate. Keiji needed him, and on some level, Koutarou must need him too. Just maybe not in the way Keiji needed him. The sunburst on his neck prickled uncomfortably, as if unhappy with the thought.

Guilt rose like smoke threatening to clog his lungs. It was likely deeply upsetting Koutarou to be shunned. No matter how he did or didn’t feel about Keiji, they were best friends. Their lives were so deeply intertwined it felt wrong to be without the other. 

_And here I am, ignoring him._

His teacher, a kind older man, gently rapped his knuckles on Keiji’s desk. He leaned down, 

“Akaashi-kun, are you feeling alright?” he asked quietly. Keiji glanced around, relieved to find the other students distracted with their reading. 

“Yes, Takamura-sensei. I’ve just been a bit tired; I apologize for being distracted.” _God._ Keiji needed to get his shit together. Takamura-sensei smiled briefly at him before nodding and returning to his desk. 

Determined to get his mind back on track, Keiji attempted to finish his reading. Some fable about a scorned lover. Unfortunately for him, the bell rang before long, leaving the setter with a foul mood and extra homework for the weekend. He packed his bags, wondering whether or not he should expect Koutarou to be waiting outside. 

Well, he didn’t have to wonder for long. 

Apparently Keiji’s escape from yesterday wasn’t an option today. Rather than waiting across the hall as usual, Koutarou had planted himself next to the door, eyes shifting around in search for the younger boy. Their eyes met. Keiji kept his face carefully blank. Koutarou gave a weak smile in response. 

Keiji took his time, nodding goodbye at his teacher as he strolled around his desk. By the time he reached the other boy, he was practically twitching with nerves. They stared at each other in silence. 

“... did you get my texts?” Koutarou asked, rocking from side to side anxiously, looking more like a scolded child than the 185 cm teenager he was. Keiji turned his head to the side in an effort to avoid eye contact. He zeroed in on a group of girls gathered around a phone giggling. 

“I was in class, Koutarou,” he finally said. He didn’t bother to hide the tension in his posture. 

“I know…you don’t have to read them,” he paused to brush his hand against Keiji’s, “I’m sorry, Keiji. Kuroo told me I probably made you feel weird bringing it up in front of our friends. I didn’t mean to upset you.” His shoulders deflated at Koutarou’s words. 

“I know, Kou.” He eventually met gold eyes. Creased brows hung over sad eyes. 

_You’d never try to hurt me._

“Can I still walk you to class?” he asked hopefully. Fingers shorter than Keiji’s reached over and pulled his apart, interrupting their twitching and tugging. 

_Say no. Make an excuse. This isn’t healthy for you to be clinging to him as much as you are. You both need space._

Despite his gut warning him, he couldn’t help how his heart [**sang**](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ffy7zqT-6Nc) at Koutarou’s attention. The mark on his neck _burned._

“Yeah, Kou. Of course you can.” 

\--------------------

By the time school ended, Koutarou’s mood had made a rebound, vitalized at the thought of their game tonight. Not only were they playing their rival school, but it was _the_ deciding game for whether or not they’d continue the season. It was tradition for the third years of the winning team to throw a party. The captain was currently bouncing around the gym prattling on at anyone who would listen, eyes glittering in excitement. 

To put it frankly, their setter was distracted. His earlier discomfort had mellowed but still tickled the back of his throat. 

Keiji grabbed his bicep, using his other arm to pull it past his neck in a stretch. Hooded eyes gazed at the other team in search of this year’s line-up. He zeroed in on the group he assumed to be their starters. Most of them were unfamiliar, the team having lost several of their third years after graduation last year, but he recognized a few faces of fellow second years. What peaked his interest was the short boy at the end. 

Brown bangs framed big brown eyes, making him look softer than the rest of his teammates. If he were going off looks alone, Keiji would’ve assumed him to be a first year lucky enough to be their starting libero. The sheer amount of cocksure energy he exuded made Keiji think twice. 

As one of the coaches signaled for the start of the game, the tiny boy began spitting out orders left and right. His teammates fell in line, accepting his directions, almost as if…

_You’re kidding._

Koutarou stood by the net, waiting for the customary handshake with the captain of the other team. The small brunette approached him. 

_There’s no way he’s captain, I’ve never even seen this kid before. Unless they let a transfer…?_

He initiated the handshake. Keiji watched as the two exchanged a few friendly competitive remarks. His curiosity turned sour when Koutarou’s cheeks flushed cherry red, head ducking bashfully. The new captain had a smirk on his face. He threw Koutarou some suspiciously suggestive looks over his shoulder as he returned to his team’s side of the net. 

Keiji immediately shoved the interaction out of his mind. Now was not the time for this. He could fantasize about wringing that little captain’s neck later. 

_Because if there’s one thing I can do right, it’s play volleyball._

**\----------**

Keiji only _just_ managed not to shriek as he was lifted in the air by thick arms around his waist. They had won. But just _barely._ An uncharacteristically large smile overtook his cheeks as he cheered along with the rest of his team. As Koutarou set him down, he grasped at his soulmark with his right hand and cupped his face with the other. 

“You were amazing,” he said. His golden eyes looked absolutely reverent. 

Keiji’s heart swelled at the sight. Koutarou’s praise lit a match in his stomach, one that threatened to engulf him whole. He prayed his own smile didn’t look too smitten. A large hand clapped his shoulder before either could lose themselves in the moment. 

“Okay, break it up over here, we all did amazing!” Kuroo nudged Keiji aside, making way to give Koutarou a big bear hug. The captain happily accepted, attempting to lift the taller boy like he had just lifted Keiji. The only difference was about 5 kg. Unfortunately, 5 kg matters. 

“ _Oof,_ oka- okay, Jesus, Bo,” Kuroo laughed, “Put me down, bud.” Watching Koutarou struggle to lift him more than a foot off the ground made for a ridiculous sight. As the two babbled in excitement, Keiji searched the stands. His eyes crinkled at the sight of their moms. 

The two of them were decked out in their school’s colors with their black, white, and gold jerseys. If it were any other game, their cheers and waves would’ve been embarrassing. Maybe he could make an exception for tonight. He scanned past them in search for the rest of the family.

_Where are Kou’s sisters?_

They almost never missed a game. Especially not _this_ game. There was nothing the alum loved more than watching the rival schools compete. He shifted his eyes a little lower, wondering if they had already made their way down to the court. Keiji froze. 

The lanky twins were nearly identical to their mother, a fact Keiji couldn’t help but notice every time he saw the two. Their short noses and soft cheeks immediately gave away the fact they were the spunky blonde’s children. Not even the dark hair and long legs could hide that. The only difference was their eyes. They were sharp and gold rather than their mother’s soft brown. Much like the ones of the man with them as they approached Keiji.

“Keiji-kun!” Keiji accepted a warm hug from Hisa. 

“Good game, buddy,” the shorter brunette pinched his cheek with a fond smile. 

“Thank you, Fumi-san.” He lifted his lips in a small smile. It shrank a little as he remembered the third member of their party. The muscles in his back tensed as he turned to greet him. 

“Hello, Bokuto-san,” Keiji bowed his head slightly. The other man grimaced. 

“Ah, no need to be so formal, Keiji-kun,” he followed his statement with a close-lipped smile. Neither of them said anything for a few moments.Their prolonged eye contact was getting to a point of discomfort as neither of them acknowledged the elephant in the room. 

_Why is he here?_

Keiji couldn’t remember the last time he had been at one of their games. Maybe sometime when Koutarou was a second-year? 

A familiar warmth came up beside him, a brief but firm touch between his shoulder blades before Koutarou passed and snatched both the twins in a tight embrace. Golden eyes crinkled in delight. 

“Fumi, Hisa!” he cried, way too loud to be shouted in someone’s ear. 

“Kou, you’re choking me,” Hisa gasped. She shoved at her little brother’s shoulder dramatically, but even with her height it was like watching a mouse try to fight a bear. Hugs with Koutarou pretty much ended when he wanted them to. He released them both and yelled with a pout, 

“I missed you guys!” 

“God, Kou, it’s only been like two weeks,” the taller one said, fond exasperation in her smile.

“Yeah, but you-” Koutarou paused as if he finally noticed there was a fourth person. He went rigid at the sight of his father, and his smile fell, as if the excitement from their win was already forgotten. Bokuto-san lifted his hand in a hesitant wave.

“Hi Koutarou,” he finally said. The twins’ brown eyes flashed between the two of them. Fumi’s stare was uneasy while Hisa looked more hopeful. The shorter girl met Keiji’s eyes, giving him an apologetic look. Despite her sister’s optimism about the situation, Keiji and Fumi were well acquainted with how wrong this could go- of how easily her brother’s mood could shift. 

“Hey Dad,” Koutarou said in a cautious voice, as if handling a frightened kitten rather than his father. He initiated an awkward hug that Bokuto-san was quick to accept. When Koutarou tried to withdraw a minute later, his father gave him an affectionate squeeze, holding him a few seconds longer before releasing him. As he leaned back, Koutarou’s eyes darted to the stands. Keiji didn’t have to follow to know he was searching for his mother. They flickered back to his father when he cleared his throat,

“I’m proud of you, buddy. I’m glad I got to watch you guys play today.” Keiji’s heart ached at the honesty in his voice. 

He had had a complicated relationship with Bokuto-san this past year. On one hand, he was essentially the only father figure he’d ever had and had raised the love of his life- but on the other hand, he had broken the Bokuto family’s hearts. 

Keiji grasped at his soulmate’s bicep and leaned in,

“I’m gonna go find my mom. Let me know when you’re ready to head over to Konoha-san’s.”

He figured their conversation wasn’t one he should be a part of. Koutarou nodded, giving him a grateful peck before he excused himself. Even with the uncomfortable turn of events, Keiji was sure he would still be roped into the senior’s victory party that night. 

The mothers greeted him with kisses and praise, though there was an uncharacteristic tension in Sango-san’s shoulders throughout their conversation. Brown eyes kept drifting to the scene behind him before snapping back like a spring. Keiji didn’t need to guess why. 

\----------

The gym had nearly cleared out by the time Keiji realized Koutarou had never found him. He approached Kuroo and his own soulmate, two pairs of bright eyes turning to him.

“Hi Kozume-san,” he said to the short blonde. Kenma nodded in response and turned back to whatever he was looking at on his phone. Ah, well. That was the friendliest greeting Keiji could’ve expected from him. 

Kuroo stood next to him, glancing at Kenma’s phone every few seconds as well. Droplets gathered at the longer parts of his bangs before dancing their way down onto the towel wrapped around broad shoulders. He gave his head a little shake, flicking water at Kenma in the process. Thin brows furrowed in a scowl but he kept tapping away. 

“Have you seen Kou anywhere?” Keiji asked. Kuroo shrugged.

“Dunno. Probably went to take a shower,” the third-year scrunched his nose, “Dude reeked to high hell.” A teasing look lit up his eyes. 

“You could probably use a shower too, Akaashi-kun.” 

Keiji ignored the last comment. This normally would’ve been a great opportunity for a jab at Kuroo’s own… _aroma_ after a game, but Keiji wasn’t feeling very playful toward him right now. Maybe he was still tender from what he overheard Kuroo say earlier. Sue him. 

As Keiji made his way toward the locker room, he heard Kuroo call out for him,

“Hey, Akaashi,” he threw a look over his shoulder to see Kuroo squinting at him, “You okay, man?” 

“Mhm.” He left it at that as he pushed through the doors, not wanting to give Kuroo more time to pry. 

Steam swirled in the air, dampening the curls at the back of Keiji’s neck. He listened for the sound of a shower running, but was met with soft whimpers. Panic ran in shivers down his spine.

“Kou?” he called out. The whimpering stopped. Keiji’s feet quickly carried him to where the sound came from. 

Sitting up against a row of lockers was Koutarou, head down. Bicolor locks hung in his eyes, dripping water into the tiny forming puddle between his feet. Koutarou was notorious for his mood swings- especially among his team- but Keiji couldn’t think of the last time he’d seen him look this miserable. 

Keiji kneeled next to him, running long fingers through his hair.

“Keiji,” Koutarou sighed in a watery voice. Keiji pushed his bangs back to reveal swollen red eyes; they closed as he swiped across a strong cheekbone, gathering tears. 

“I’m proud of you, you know,” he hesitated, choosing his next words carefully, “For how you’ve handled everything.” Koutarou stayed silent, but leaned into the hand cupping his cheek as a silent acknowledgment. He mumbled something incoherent into his palm. 

Keiji was well aware this was not a conversation he should push his soulmate into having. Nothing got Koutarou to lock up the way his parents did. The setter had to tread lightly if he wanted to keep him from throwing away the key. 

Keiji stood from his crouch. Koutarou whined before realizing the younger boy was sliding down the lockers to sit. Within a second of opening his arms, Keiji had a lapful of his captain. Thick arms wrapped around his waist as a wet face tucked into his neck. Keiji wrinkled his nose after a moment,

“Mm, I probably smell terrible, Kou,” he warned. Koutarou shook his head in protest, Keiji felt his chest rise as he took a deep inhale. 

“No, y’always smell good, Keiji.”

“God, you’re gross.” Koutarou let out a dramatic wail. He squeezed his soulmate’s waist tighter. 

“Keiji! It’s not gross, it’s sweet.” The setter buried his face in the wet hair below him to hide a smile. After a few moments, he heard a mumble from the boy wrapped around him.

“What was that?” Keiji asked. Another murmur, a little louder this time. 

“I can’t hear you, Koutarou, speak up.” He grasped the pointy chin and pulled it away from the crevice of his neck of his neck, forcing Koutarou to face him. The older boy’s lips were pulled down in a pronounced pout. 

“I asked if you could pet my hair again,” he said, cheeks flaming. Koutarou tugged his chin out of the other’s grasp to shove it back in his neck. Keiji granted his request, twirling the wet strands around his fingers. 

The soulmates sat curled up for so long, Keiji assumed the other had fallen asleep. 

“I love you,” he pressed a soft kiss to the mop of hair below him. 

“Mmm, I love you too, Keiji,” Koutarou said, shocking him a little. He pressed a kiss to the [ **sunburst** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QLPVtIscbco) next to his face in response as well. “Thank you for always knowing what I need.” 

Keiji hummed, unconvinced. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **thank you to all the people who left/leave kudos & comments <3


	3. An Inevitable Meeting.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "This night had gone to hell faster than he could’ve ever expected and he absolutely could not do this sober."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello friends, happy holidays. 
> 
> 1\. ik how bad it looks guys, ik, but i s2g it's endgame bokuaka and that bokuto is not an absolute piece of shit. i promise u. 
> 
> 2\. akaashi is a bit of a simp, ok, what can i say
> 
> 3\. also i had the worst writer's block for DAYS and then on thanksgiving (yesterday) i passed the fuck out after eating, woke up inspired, and cranked this out from 7:30 pm to 4:00 am. and it's my favorite chapter I've written so far, so I must've done something right LMAO.
> 
> 4\. also my tumblr is bubble-tea-and-biodiversity

“Are you sure you don’t wanna just go home, Kou?” Keiji asked, uncertainty in his voice. He wasn’t feeling particularly social, nor did he understand how Koutarou could be after spending the better half of an hour crying. He watched as Koutarou mussed his hair in the mirror, Keiji’s own wet curls sending shivers down his spine. 

The pair had yet to leave the locker room- much to Keiji’s dismay- as Koutarou’s quick recovery had spiraled into enthusiasm for the party. The exact party Keiji had thought he had gotten out of. 

Apparently not.

“Yeah, I’m sure.” Koutarou shifted his gaze to him in the mirror. Gold eyes tracked a droplet as it made it’s descent from a ringlet and down his neck, settling in a sharp clavicle. Warmth tickled Keiji’s stomach.

_ Not the time.  _

“It’ll be fun. Besides, already texted Kuroo we were comin’,” he hesitated before meeting Keiji’s eyes, “unless you’re not feeling up to it anymore?” No matter how hard he tried to hide it, Keiji could hear the disappointment in the question. His feet shifted nervously. 

The thing was, Keiji never really “felt up to” a party. Being around a bunch of easy going people reminded him of his own social shortcomings, which only served to make him more anxious and ironically caused him to recede further into his shell. The only issue was-

_ You already promised.  _

He thought back to Koutarou’s excitement when he had brought it up.

_ “Really? You never wanna go!”  _ Koutarou had yelled, unable to control his volume. And no, Keiji really didn’t wanna go. He just wanted to stop keeping his soulmate cooped up all the time. 

“It’s not that, Kou…” Keiji tugged self-consciously at his loose hoodie, “We can go. I just wish I had brought different clothes.” After glancing at his clothing, Koutarou sulked. 

“What’s wrong with my clothes?” he asked, petulantly. Koutarou whirled around, crossing the room to tug at the extra fabric spilling off Keiji’s arms. Keiji couldn’t help but lean in to the warmth. 

“You look soft,” Koutarou said after a few beats. His eyes lingered on a loose thread, fingers toying with the decision on whether or not to tear it. . “I like it when we share clothes.” Keiji raised an eyebrow, before his frown curled into a smirk. 

“I think you mean when I wear  _ your  _ clothes. My shirts never fit you and most of my pants are too tight on-” he snuck a quick hand around, smacking Koutarou’s ass, “this.” Koutarou yelped in shock. Keiji let out a burst of laughter at the older boy’s scandalized expression. His surprise quickly turned to an impish smile. 

Before Keiji could react, Koutarou had already snatched the damp towel off his shoulders. 

“Oh no.” Keiji already knew what was coming. Two years of being on a team with Koutarou and Kuroo had familiarized him with this custom- unfortunately. Ducking under Koutarou’s raised arm, he made a run for the hallway into the showers. Koutarou chuckled, the echo bouncing off the walls. 

Giddy adrenaline coursed through his veins as he searched for an escape. 

Fuck. Why did Keiji pick the one room with no exits?

Keiji darted toward the closest shower and rushed to tug the curtain closed behind him. He was only given a few moments of calm before he heard the approaching sound of bare feet padding against the tile floor. He pressed the back of his hand to his mouth in an attempt to conceal his giggles. It was futile. 

The shower curtain burst open, revealing a pleased Koutarou, towel stretched between both hands. 

“Kou.” Keiji pressed his lips together to hold back a smile. Koutarou raised an eyebrow. The two had a silent showdown, Keiji pressed up against the wet tile with Koutarou blocking the entrance. 

“Keiji, sweetheart,” Koutarou let out an exaggerated sigh. His lips curved into a wicked smirk as he blew the air out of his cheeks. “You’ve really gotta pick a better hiding place.” 

At that, the taller boy grabbed Keiji’s waist and swivelled him around. Keiji shrieked with laughter as he struggled to overpower Koutarou, more for show than anything else. 

_ Crack! _

Koutarou swatted his ass with the towel, inducing more howls of laughter from both himself and Keiji. As he laughed, Koutarou’s grip loosened, giving room for Keiji to twist around in his arms. He threw his arms around broad shoulders, tugging Koutarou’s wonderful smile inches from his own. 

The two pressed soft kisses as their shaking shoulders died down. Soft kisses turned into open frantic ones as Koutarou began to move in, squeezing Keiji against the wall. A bold lick against the palate of his mouth elicited a shameless moan from Koutarou. He trailed a line of kisses down a sharp jaw before swallowing Keiji’s gasp. 

Two pairs of eyes opened as Koutarou pulled back, breathless,

“I love it so much when you laugh, Keiji.” Keiji beamed and tugged him close with one arm. His other one reached to the side, long fingers seeking out Koutarou’s which were pressed against the wall beside his head. When they found each other, Koutarou squeezed, pressing his soulmark tightly against Keiji’s palm. 

The sound of honking geese interrupted, startling Keiji and preventing their hands from wandering too far. Koutarou pulled back once again before shifting his head down to glance at his phone. Keiji groaned, slamming his head back against the tile as he tried to ignore the stirring warmth in his stomach and a severe case of blue balls. Fortunately for him, nothing killed a boner faster than the sound of enraged geese. 

“I swear to God if that’s Kuroo-san.” 

Koutarou smiled sheepishly. 

“I guess the team is wondering if we’re still coming.” Koutarou held the phone to Keiji’s face.

**RECEIVED: kuroooo <3 (8:43 PM) **

**bro**

**_Seen 9:01 PM_ **

**RECEIVED: kuroooo <3 (8:43 PM) **

**Are you and Akaashi on your way**

**_Seen 9:01 PM_ **

**RECEIVED: kuroooo <3 (9:00 PM) **

**????**

**_Seen 9:01 PM_ **

**RECEIVED: kuroooo <3 (9:01 PM) **

**ok well lmk if you’re still coming. Everyone’s asking where the captain and vice are**

**_Seen 9:01 PM_ **

**RECEIVED: kuroooo <3 (9:01 PM) **

**Unless…** **( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)**

**_Seen 9:01 PM_ **

  
  


Keiji wrinkled his nose, gently pushing the phone away. Koutarou’s eyes sparkled, the question in them clear. With a deep sigh, he made his bed. 

“Yeah, Kou, let him know we’re coming.” 

\----------

  
The party was in full swing by the time they arrived, consisting mostly of Koutarou’s graduating class with several of the team’s underclassmen mixed in. Per tradition, it was held around the firepit of someone’s backyard- though Keiji couldn’t tell you whose. It was clear to anyone with eyes this wasn’t an organized event. Black, white, and gold streamers were sloppily curled around the fence caging them in, as if done in rush, but that was really all that could be said for decoration. Some speakers [**boomed**](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J9Zjgb03FMQ) in the back, a few meters away from buckets of punch (that Keiji definitely did not trust) surrounded by stumbling teenagers who were struggling to refill their cups without making more of a mess. There was a certain stench of cheap liquor, sweat, and… something else that Keiji couldn’t quite put a finger on.

Koutarou lamented about the smell, “God, why does it smell like balls?” 

Ah, yes, that was it. 

Keiji curled tighter into his soulmate’s side, already overstimulated from the atmosphere. Koutarou responded with a warm squeeze around his shoulder.

“You okay?” his gold eyes searched Keiji’s face, attempting to gauge his comfort level. “We can go home.” Keiji lifted his lips into a mask of a smile. 

“I’m fine, let’s go find Kuroo-san and the others.” 

Fortunately for them, it wasn’t a very difficult feat. For better or for worse, no one quite knew how to commandeer a room the way the Fukurodani boys’ volleyball team did.

Standing on a log wobbling less than a meter away from the firepit was Konoha. His hand narrowly missed the top of Kenma’s head as he gestured wildly. Luckily for him, Kenma was passed out, curled against Kuroo’s shoulder as he dozed. Unluckily for him, Kuroo had a threatening expression practically daring him to wake Kenma up.

Konoha was oblivious to his almost-murder, clearly sloshed beyond belief as he rambled his way through a story. A few classmates were listening, but most looked terribly unimpressed.

“And get this, she was mad at  _ me _ , like, how the fuck was I supposed to know those are one-use only?” Konoha slurred.

“Jesus, Konoha, get down,” Kuroo groaned, “You’re embarrassing yourself, dude.” Despite his complaints, he made no effort to help.

Keiji removed himself from Koutarou’s side. Getting his moron teammates out of bad situations was kind of his thing at this point, and he was incapable of watching anymore of this disaster. 

“Konoha-san, you’re gonna fall and burn yourself, come on down,” he placed a tentative hand on his lower arm, careful not to startle him. Konoha beamed at the sight of him. 

“Akaashi-kun!” he hollered, scrambling down from the log and tripping into Keiji’s arms. Even with the few centimeters Keiji had on him, Konoha managed to wrap his arms around the taller boy’s head and drunkenly nuzzle into his dark curls. 

“I’m so happy our vice cap’in’s here, but where’s Bo?” he paused, “You smell like him!” Keiji cheeks warmed, gently trying to push him away. 

“Like, a good smell- right?” Koutarou said, looking mildly puzzled. Konoha spun around at the sound of his voice. 

“Bokuto, my man, you have  _ got  _ to try the punch.” 

Several cups and fifteen minutes later, Keiji wished they had never found Konoha. At some point, the two had managed to lose the upper halves of their clothes, leaving them in basketball shorts and socks. Koutarou had found his way into the crowd of teenagers, attempting what looked like was supposed to be dancing, but was more flailing arms and jumping than anything else. Keiji was too filled with dismay to appreciate the sight of rippling back muscles. He sat on a log near the fire along with a few other sober stragglers and watched.

“You look bored out of your mind, ‘Kaashi-kun,” Kuroo drawled. Somehow he had gotten ahold of punch without ever moving his snoring soulmate. Koutarou may have been a wild drunk, but Kuroo was a mouthy one. 

“Hmm.” Keiji kept his head turned away. At the evident refusal of conversation, Kuroo scoffed.

“Did I do somethin’ to piss you off, or is this just general ice queen Akaashi behavior?” he said, unable to hide the irritation in his voice. “‘Cause you’ve been acting like I don’t exist all day.” He rose his shoulders like a dog would its hackles, stirring Kenma and eliciting a tired whine. 

“To piss me off, you’d have to do something worth my attention, Kuroo-san.” Keiji was aware he was being a dismissive asshole, really, he was. Kuroo’s pinched expression sent a wave of guilt through him. 

“I… is this about what happened at lunch earlier?” he asked, all traces of aggression gone from his voice. Keiji stiffened. “‘Cause if it is… you gotta know, ‘Kaashi, I’m on your side there. This is stu-”

“Stop,” Keiji hissed, snapping his head to shoot daggers at him. “You shouldn’t even know about that.” 

“Bo wasn’t trying to hurt you, he just told me because-” 

“Well- maybe he shouldn’t, Kuroo,” The resentment and humiliation from the last several days was rising in Keiji, threatening to boil over. “Maybe it’s none of your business what happens in our relationship, or any part of my life,” he spat. 

Kuroo recoiled as if struck. His eyes were wide and hurt, not expecting the bitterness sent his way. After a few moments, he smoothed his brows out and clicked his tongue, shaking his head with a sour smirk. 

“God, once again, you prove how fantastic you are at pushing people away.” Kuroo buried his nose in Kenma’s mismatched hair, now the one refusing eye contact. Keiji’s heart ached. He was well aware he was taking this out on the wrong person but found himself too upset to remedy the situation. 

Keiji gazed at the fire miserably. 

_ And you wonder why Koutarou’s sick of you and you have no friends.  _

He struggled to focus on something else, tuning in to the conversation taking place beside him.

“Isn’t it kinda weird they showed up to a victory party for the team they lost to?” He glanced at the girl speaking. Her chin was propped in one hand and a half-smoked blunt in the other, squinting as she scrutinized something past his shoulder. “Akaashi-kun, does that like, not bother you?” Keiji startled when he was addressed. 

“Does what…” he trailed off, words caught in his throat. The tiny captain from the other team was standing dangerously close to Koutarou, eyes peering up behind heavy lids. The two were dancing, albeit poorly, as Koutarou prattled on. 

“He’s like, eye-fucking him,” the girl snorted, unimpressed by the scene. Keiji attempted to soothe himself as anxiety began to rise. They weren’t necessarily  _ doing  _ anything...just dancing. His breath turned to dust as he watched the other captain raise a subtle hand, softly touching part of Koutarou’s bare chest before dragging it down to a spot above his navel. Koutarou’s dancing halted, stunned. 

“Oh,” the girl suddenly looked uncomfortable. She nervously met Keiji’s eyes.

“Is… that… um-” Keiji stood up, dizzyingly quick as he made his way for the punch. This night had gone to hell faster than he could’ve ever expected and he absolutely could not do this sober. He needed a drink. He needed a drink so bad, and if he didn’t get one in the next ten seconds, he was going to have a breakdown.

Keiji snatched a cup out of someone’s hand as they finished pouring. Wincing, he poured the entire thing down his throat. Tears pricked his eyes as he refilled his cup. The boy he’d stolen from gaped at him before cheering.

“Yeah, Akaashi-san! Didn’t take you for a drinker.” Keiji ignored him and focused instead on getting as much alcohol in his system as fast as possible. 

After several minutes and drinks later, Keiji felt the world begin to spin. He needed to sit down, but there was no way in hell he was returning back to that conversation. He stumbled his way into the cracked sliding door that led into the house.

The atmosphere inside wasn’t any less suffocating than the one in the backyard, if not much worse. Despite it being an “outside” party, the living room was packed head to toe with horny teenagers. Keiji shoved his way toward the couch after noticing an open spot next to the punch bowl on the coffee table. With a newly filled cup grasped in hand, Keiji worked on drunkenly sorting his thoughts. 

Keiji didn’t know how much longer he could keep up with the emotional whiplash from Koutarou’s actions. He was teetering on a breaking point. Koutarou was back and forth between treating him like he was a godsend and as if he was a replaceable commodity, easily sold and bought again. 

Keiji blinked back tears, determined not to cry. He wasn’t allowed to cry. As he dumped the next cup down his throat, he finally noticed the rapid vibrations coming from his phone. Sluggishly, Keiji stared at the blurring screen. Noting he had several texts and missed calls, he opened the first message thread from Konoha. 

**RECEIVED: Konoha Akinori (10:32 PM)**

**heyj are u oka ??? bo said hed lookingg for u**

**_Seen 11:01 PM_ **

Keiji swiped into the next chat. 

**RECEIVED: Kuroo Tetsurou (10:30 PM)**

**Bo is freaking out. Please text him back.**

**_Seen 11:01 PM_ **

He scowled, unwilling to answer that message as well.

**RECEIVED: Kou (10:15 PM)**

**keijiiiiii where r u**

**_Seen 11:02 PM_ **

**RECEIVED: Kou (10:15 PM)**

**i miss u**

**_Seen 11:02 PM_ **

**RECEIVED: Kou (10:16 PM)**

**i havnt seen ur pretty face in lie**

**_Seen 11:02 PM_ **

**RECEIVED: Kou (10:16 PM)**

**20 minuted**

**_Seen 11:02 PM_ **

**RECEIVED: Kou (10:25 PM)**

**keiji?**

**_Seen 11:02 PM_ **

**RECEIVED: Kou (10:29 PM)**

**baby ? :(**

**_Seen 11:02 PM_ **

**RECEIVED: Kou (10:30 PM)**

**did u go home?**

**_Seen 11:02 PM_ **

**RECEIVED: Kou (10:40 PM)**

**please answer my calls**

**_Seen 11:02 PM_ **

Keiji’s face soured, unable to find it in himself to feel guilty.

_ Good. I hope he’s worried.  _

He scrolled back to the unread messages from earlier this morning.

**RECEIVED: Kou (7:45 AM)**

**keiji, im sorry**

**_Seen 11:02 PM_ **

**RECEIVED: Kou (7:45 AM)**

**kuroo said i was being a jackass earlier. He said i wasnt being very considerate of ur feelings bringing that up in front of konoha and i know hes right.**

**_Seen 11:02 PM_ **

_ God. I’m such a piece of shit,  _ Keiji thought miserably as he remembered how he treated Kuroo earlier. 

**RECEIVED: Kou (7:46 AM)**

**i love you so much, i didnt mean to upset you**

**_Seen 11:02 PM_ **

**RECEIVED: Kou (7:46 AM)**

**ik youre mad but please dont be mad at me too long**

**_Seen 11:02 PM_ **

**RECEIVED: Kou (7:47 AM)**

**it hurts when i hurt u :(**

**_Seen 11:02 PM_ **

Keiji could feel warmth pooling at the bottom of his eyes. Suddenly, the living room was not nearly private enough for him. The bass from the music was thundering against his head, making it difficult to get a grasp on his already convoluted emotions, and he could hear the sloppy sounds of the couple next to him making out. He searched for an exit, desperate for somewhere with less gyrating teenagers and more peace of mind. 

Keiji staggered his way up the stairs as he raced against the bile rising with every step.

_ Fuck. I need to sit down  _ **_now._ ** He plopped down at the top of the stairs, crooked legs spilling into the long hallway and head propped against the wall. The world around him seemed to marble as his vision got blurrier.

For the first time in a long time, Keiji let himself  [ **cry** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qhSds5jPnFo) . He sobbed for what felt like hours, until his throat was raw and he was gasping for each breath. Crying was supposed to make you feel better, wasn’t it? 

_ Why do I feel worse?  _

Keiji swiped the back of his hand against his eye, smearing trails of tears across his swollen cheeks. A throat cleared,

“Uhm, you good?” Keiji raised bleary eyes to the voice. It was difficult to see through his clouded vision, but he could decipher a shock of bleached-blond hair and a vaguely familiar face. 

“Ashi…” Oh god, not this again. “...kawa-san?” 

“Ugh.” The blond rubbed his forehead with his thumb and forefinger. 

“No, tha’s not right. Ashikami-san?” 

“Dude, am I that forgettable? I only sit behind you in like, every class.” 

“‘M sure you don’t know my name either,” Keiji argued. The guy raised an unimpressed brow. 

“Akaashi Keiji.” Keiji gaped. 

“Why would you ‘member that? How’d you even know who I am? I don’t think we’ve ever spoken until this week,” Keiji said with a baffled expression, a drunken slur catching on his words. 

“You’re kidding, right? You’re kind of hard to miss, Akaashi-kun,” Ashikimi (?) remarked with a scoff. 

Keiji was caught between dumbfounded and affronted.

“Wha’ the hell’s that s’pposed to mean?” he asked, wrinkling his nose. 

“What I mean is, you’re the kind of person who looks pretty even wasted and covered in their own snot. Of course people would notice you.” 

“Fuck off,” Keiji snarled. His heart was already sore and he wasn’t in the mood for teasing. Ashi-something raised his hands in surrender. 

“You’re clearly in a mood. Why’re you crying up here when the party’s down there?” 

“Why’re  _ you _ preying on sad people when the party’s down there?” Keiji shot back defensively. 

“Gorgeous and mean, that’s a dangerous combination,” the blond paused. “Although, I think this is the most I’ve ever heard you speak.” He inspected Keiji’s face, squinting a little. “You must be absolutely trashed.” 

“Can you like, back off?” Keiji was still too sober for this conversation. He glanced down at his cup, swirling the colorful poison before throwing the entire thing back. Ashi- god, was that even the first part of his name- winced. 

“I’m not- I’m not trying to hit on you dude, you just look really pathetic right now.” Keiji let out a mix of a laugh and a sob. 

“Okay, for real, fuck off!” 

“No, no, I don’t mean-” Ashi-asshole sighed, gripping the bridge of his nose, “I’m not trying to be an asshole. You just look like you need someone to talk to.” He looked pained. 

“Jesus, I’m not good at this,” he finished under his breath. 

“You wanna talk? You give me that,” Keiji pointed at the full cup of punch in his hand, “and we’ll talk.” The blond’s eyes shifted between his drink and Keiji, as if debating on the idea. 

“If I give you this,” he started hesitantly, “Are you gonna end up with alcohol poisoning?” 

“I’m an athlete, I can handle my liquor.”

“I don’t think that’s… okay, whatever, I don’t know enough to fight you on that.” Keiji accepted the alcohol from him, nearly gagging as the strong taste of vodka hit the back of his throat again. 

“Get talkin’, Akaashi-kun.” 

Keiji rolled his head back against the wall, the alcohol burning through his veins and loosening his lips. 

“I’m in love with someone who doesn’t love me,” Keiji said. He had come to terms with the thought several times in the last few days, but admitting it out loud was  _ different _ . It hurt worse. 

Ashi-seriously-what-the-fuck-was-his-name looked baffled at the idea. 

“Don’t you have a boyfriend?” he waved his hand around in a musing gesture. “The big third year? Bokuto?” 

Keiji glared at him. 

“Yes,  _ smartass _ . He’s not just my boyfriend, he’s my  _ soulmate, _ ” Keiji mumbled. “But yeah. That’s the one. He doesn’t love me.” Keiji waited for a pitying response. After being met with radio silence, he peered up. 

The blond was gaping at him. 

“I- I’m sorry, you  _ cannot _ honestly believe that,” he had the audacity to laugh. He stopped when he realized Keiji wasn’t laughing with him, but staring stone cold. 

“Really?” he startled. “The guy is borderline obsessed with you, it’s embarrassing.” Keiji shook his head, irritated. 

“No, you’re missing the point. He does love me, but he doesn’t  _ love me, _ ” Keiji was sick of this conversation. Even with the alcohol, it was sobering, which was the  _ last  _ thing he wanted right now. He stood abruptly, but clutched his head as the vertigo worsened. He stumbled into the blond and let out a sharp whine when his stomach convulsed with the movement. 

“Oh god, I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about, but you really need to sit down.” the taller of the two wrapped an arm around Keiji’s shoulder tentatively, grabbing a little tighter when the other didn’t push him away. Keiji closed his eyes, lolling his head against the arm as he was guided through a door. When they reopened, it was to the sight of what looked like an office, long bookshelves surrounding a desk and a couch. The blond led him over to said couch, slumping him onto it. 

“How’d you know this was in here?” Keiji asked distrustfully in an attempt to cover his gratitude. 

“It’s my soulmate’s house,” he gestured to the wall, indicating the next room over, “She’s in her bedroom getting railed.” Now it was Keiji’s turn to gape. 

“ _ ‘cuse me?”  _ he asked, unsure if he heard right. The taller boy shrugged. 

“Uh, yeah, why else did you think I was blocking the door?” Keiji flushed. He hadn’t really noticed that, a little too caught up in his own world. 

“I don’... I don’ understand,” Keiji closed his eyes again, willing the room to stop spinning but desperately invested in this conversation now. “You’re not upset she’s sleeping with someone else?” Keiji heard a sigh before he felt the couch shift by his feet and the weight of a person sitting. 

“No. Soulmate shit is stupid. She’s gay, I’m gay. Platonic soulmates are a thing, you know,” he explained, casually, as if he hadn’t just rocked Keiji’s world. 

There it was again. Platonic soulmates. 

“But… tha’s not…” he trailed off, meeting scrutinizing brown eyes. 

“Not what? Normal? Common? I don’t know, sounds like it might be your issue over there with Mr. Superstud.” Keiji barked out a laugh. 

“That’s stupid, don’ call him that,” he hesitated as he digested the last half of the blond’s sentence, “But I love him. A lot.” The other boy opened his mouth, but Keiji wasn’t done, 

“And yes, I love him  _ like that _ . I’m in love with him. So in love with him. And he-” Keiji let out a gasping sob. 

“He wants us to sleep with other people. I’m not,” he took a shaky breath, “I’m not enough for him.” He glanced nervously at the other boy, uncomfortable with the vulnerability of what he had shared. For the first time tonight, the blond looked irritated. 

“You know… I don’t really buy into this soulmate stuff, but that’s fucked of him to do that to you. He should just tell you if he’s not interested.” Keiji shook his dark curls. 

“I thin’… I think he’s trying to force himself to be happy with me. We’re each other’s best frien’s, y’know?” Keiji gulped in another breath of air. “He loves me a lot. Jus’ not how I want him to.” 

The pair sat in comfortable silence, letting Keiji’s words sink into the atmosphere. Keiji tilted his head to look at him.

“Than’s for talking to me, Ashikawi-san,” he said softly. “I don’ really have any frien’s to talk to about this.” 

“Ashikaga.” 

“Yeah, Ashikagi-san.”

“Sure.” 

There was a quick knock on the door before it was immediately busted open, revealing a frantic (but at least no longer shirtless) Koutarou. 

“Hey, I’m sorry to barge in but the door was unlocked and I can’t fin-” he met Keiji’s eyes. Koutarou let out a breath of relief, dropping to his knees in front of the cushion Keiji sat on to cup his neck, forcing him to make eye contact. He stroked a line of tears, removing them from Keiji’s cheeks before they could dry. 

“Oh my god, Keiji, baby, you cannot-” he let out a quivering breath, shaking his head as he gazed into foggy blue eyes. “You can’t just not tell anyone where you’re going and not answer your phone. ‘Specially not when everyone’s telling me how drunk you are.” 

Much like sober Keiji, drunk Keiji was also putty in an affectionate Koutarou’s hands. 

“Koutarou,” he whined. God, he was going to be embarrassed about that in the morning. Keiji flung his arms around his soulmate’s neck before wrapping his legs around his waist as well. Koutarou lifted him, starkly sober compared to the last time Keiji had seen him. He couldn’t even find it in himself to be ashamed of the way he clung to Koutarou like an overgrown, drunken koala in front of the blond- pride be damned. 

“Let’s go home, yeah?” Koutarou said, pecking the soulmark on his neck. 

The boy at the end of the couch cleared his throat. Koutarou startled before his gaze snapped to him, as if just noticing his presence for the first time. His eyes were wide before cinching into a wary scowl. 

“Who’re you again?” he asked, a hint of a threat in his tone. Keiji’s head was slumped over Koutarou’s back like a ragdoll, arms still wrapped around his neck. He patted his back and gestured to the blond, 

“Tha’s my frien’, Awakugi-san.” 

“Jesus, that’s not even close anymore,” the blond laughed, almost sounding fond. “Ashikaga Suoh,” he finally introduced, reaching out a hand. 

Koutarou looked at his hand skeptically before adjusting to effortlessly hold Keiji with one arm, shaking with the other. 

_ God, that’s hot.  _

“Your soulmate is a pretty snuggly guy when he’s drunk,” Ashikaga nodded to Keiji. 

Koutarou lifted his chin, as if pleased by the acknowledgment of how desperately Keiji was clinging to him. 

“I mean, god, buy me dinner first, right?” Koutarou froze. With his face tucked in his neck, Keiji couldn’t see his expression, but he felt the way strong arms tightened around him. Even drunk, the tension in the room was palpable. 

“Kou,” Keiji leaned back and pawed a clumsy hand at his soulmate’s face, dragging gold eyes to his by a sharp cheekbone. “I don’t feel so good.” Strong brows furrowed in concern.

“... We’re leaving now.” Koutarou didn’t leave much room for argument.. Keiji lolled back to Koutarou’s shoulder, intentionally pressing his soulmark against the other’s warm neck. Koutarou hefted him up a little more, getting a stronger grip, before making his way toward the door.

Koutarou shot the blond a final probing look before passing through the door. Keiji fought against sleep’s siren call, giving a weak wave to the boy. 

“Bye, Ashikana-san.”

“No, it’s- close enough. Bye, Akaashi-kun. Good talk.” 

Their walk home was nearly silent, save for Keiji’s occasional grumbles when Koutarou jolted too much. 

\----------

  
  


Keiji woke up feeling like a desert. Dry mouth, dry eyes, and a sandstorm swirling in his stomach. He groaned. 

A sturdy hand cupped his cheek,

“There’s some water here when you’re ready.” Keiji cracked an eye open, reaching for the cup. After downing the entire thing, he flopped his head down against Koutarou’s chest, feeling entirely unprepared to move. The hand that had been holding his face shifted down, stroking circles into his mid back.

“You’re lucky my mom was asleep by the time we got back, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you that drunk,” Koutarou paused, wrapping his arm further around to stroke the hip jutted in the air instead, “You really freaked us all out when we couldn’t find you, y’know, but you had your read receipts on and were opening our messages…” he trailed off. “Is something wrong?” 

_ Now. Now’s the time to tell him you know, rip the Band-Aid off.  _

Keiji rolled off Koutarou’s chest and onto the pillow beside his head. Koutarou propped himself on his elbow, a question in his frown, but was interrupted as Keiji tugged him on top. Koutarou looked a little surprised, but was quick to reciprocate the kiss. 

The combination of morning breath and alcohol from the previous night was hideous, but Keiji powered through it. He sucked on Koutarou’s lower lip before pulling back a little, gasping. 

Koutarou was staring at him the way he always did- a little awestruck. 

“You taste…” Keiji lifted his lips to Koutarou’s ear, who leaned in to the touch, “Like shit.” Koutarou guffawed unexpectedly. 

His lips curved into a teasing smile.  “You don’t taste so great yourself.” Despite his words, he went back for [ **seconds**](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_3hKSSL-CRo) . 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> once again, thank u so much for all the kudos, bookmarks, hits, comments, etc. I really can't tell you how much it makes my day every time I get one. I don't have a ton of contact with people outside my siblings rn with everything going on with covid, and I love hearing from people. so tysm again! <3


	4. Inevitably a Jackass.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "'This can’t be healthy', he found himself thinking again."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi friends, 
> 
> 1\. ik keiji acts significantly less formal when in private with bokuto than he does canonically, but like... they're soulmates, yknow? i try not to be too ooc! 
> 
> 2\. also, my sister always edits these for me & gives me any advice/tells me when something sucks. so when she was proofreading the first go around, i accidentally spelled koutarou like koutatou (like potato) and she practically fuckin cried bc it was so stupid. 
> 
> 3\. also tysm for reading this, i love writing it & i love that other people are enjoying. <3 have a good day & i hope you enjoy the chapter!

Keiji was well aware he was not most people’s first pick. His discomfort and stoicism tended to come across as cold rather than awkward and he couldn’t exactly be considered the “life of the party”. Although he was a strong leader as vice captain, it took a lot to bring him out of his shell, which made for few people in his life that really pursued  _ his  _ friendship. Most of them were friends with Koutarou, and almost-sort-of-his by extension. 

Which is exactly what had Keiji perplexed about that morning. 

The third years had prep entrance exams, resulting in a staggered schedule and deviation from their norm. For most second years, this meant little other than slightly emptier hallways. For Keiji, this meant constant texts from a needy Koutarou and eating lunch with no one other than Kenma, who might’ve been the one person Keiji knew that was quieter than himself. To an outsider, the two almost seemed alike. The biggest difference was Kenma’s perceived indifference wasn’t misread. 

The atmosphere at their lunch table was uncomfortable, to say the least. 

Kenma was sitting across from him entirely enveloped in some game on his DS. Golden eyes flickered across the screen, not even sparing the other boy a glance. Neither had spoken in probably ten minutes. Attempting to curb his boredom, Keiji snuck a peek at his phone. 

**RECEIVED: Kou (10:04 AM)**

**i hate late lunch**

**_Seen 10:12 AM_ **

**RECEIVED: Kou (10:05 AM)**

**im hungry and i miss u :(**

**_Seen 10:12 AM_ **

**SENT: Kou (10:12 AM)**

**You saw me less than three hours ago.**

**_Seen 10:13 AM_ **

Koutarou’s response was nearly immediate. 

  
  


**RECEIVED: Kou (10:13 AM)**

**3 hours is a long time**

**_Seen 10:13 AM_ **

  
  


Keiji smiled softly, stomach fluttering. 

“I heard you and Kuro fought.” Keiji startled, eyes shooting to Kenma who was still staring at his game and clicking away. If they hadn’t been the only two at the table, Keiji might’ve thought he had never spoken. 

What a way to break the silence. 

“Uhm,” Keiji said. Kenma finally glanced up at him, face as indifferent as ever. “Did he tell you what about?” 

“No,” Kenma’s gaze returned to his game. Keiji felt a wave of relief, but it was quickly squashed, “He tells me everything. But I don’t even think  _ he  _ completely understands what you fought about.” 

Ah, there was that guilt again. Blue eyes lingered on a tiny drawing of an alien engraved on the table. 

“Sometimes Koutarou brings up stuff he shouldn’t,” Kenma started again. Keiji squinted, not quite understanding where the blond was going with this conversation. 

“Personal stuff- stuff I told Kuroo that wasn’t supposed to be shared.” Kenma’s eyes flickered between Keiji and his game, as if ensuring he was still listening. Unfortunately, Keiji was. Unease began to take root as Kenma’s intentions became clearer- Keiji was about  _ ninety percent  _ certain he was getting scolded. 

“And the thing is, yeah, it pisses me off. But I’m also not upset with Koutarou for that. It’s not his fault Kuroo overshared,” Kenma kept his tone nonchalant, but not enough to disguise his underlying irritation. “And sometimes it isn’t even really Kuroo’s either. Sometimes he just needs advice from someone other than me.” 

Ah, yes. Keiji was  _ definitely _ getting scolded. 

“Are you following, Keiji-kun?” Kenma had put his game down and was now giving Keiji his undivided attention, which- god, Keiji had never been intimidated by the smaller boy before then, but he supposed there was some truth to the rumors. 

“Ah,” he said, “I think so, Kozume-san.” 

And the thing was, he actually _did_ follow. Keiji was no stranger to plenty of details about Kenma and Kuroo’s relationship, probably knew a lot more than he should through fault of his own soulmate. Looking back, Keiji felt a little stupid for assuming Kenma was a willing participant of this, but he had just never considered it. Despite that, Kenma had always been warm (or _his_ version of warm) to Koutarou. Much like Kenma, Keiji would’ve felt defensive for his sake if he hadn’t. 

Aside from that, Keiji honestly  _ did  _ feel bad about his unprovoked behavior from that past Friday. If he hadn’t been eavesdropping, he would’ve been none the wiser regarding their conversation. As far as Kuroo was aware, he had no real reason to be mad at him. Whether or not Kuroo had hurt his feelings, Keiji was well aware it wasn’t intentional. 

“You should talk to him next practice.” It was phrased like a suggestion, but wasn’t really said like one. Although a little irked by having his arm twisted, there was something endearing to Keiji about the way the reclusive boy was willing to stand up for his soulmate. In general, Kenma tended to avoid most conversations outside of Kuroo, but  _ especially  _ conflict. Keiji was certain it had taken a lot out of him to do this. 

“I will. Thank you, Kozume-san,” Keiji said, lips quirking a little. Kenma nodded at him, before going back to pretending he didn’t exist. If Keiji didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought Kenma almost looked a little pleased with himself. 

The bell signalling the end of lunch rang, disrupting the calm that had settled in. As the two made their way to the second-year wing, Keiji found himself comforted by Kenma’s quiet companionship. There was something soothing about neither of them feeling the need to fill the silence with empty conversation. 

“Akaashi-kun! Kenma-kun!” Keiji jolted at the feel of an arm wrapping around his shoulders and a warm side pressing against him. He gawked at the sight of the tall blonde, flabbergasted by the familiarity of the gesture.

_ Oh shit, what was his name again?  _ Keiji vaguely remembered a conversation with the boy from the party on Friday, but had forgotten most of it on account of being absolutely  _ blasted. _ Thinking too hard about the events that transpired that night with both Koutarou and Kuroo left him queasy _.  _ He found himself hoping Kenma knew the boy’s name.

“Hm,” For some reason, Kenma wasn’t nearly as perturbed by this situation. “Hi Suoh-kun.” 

_ No. I am not calling him that. God, I need to write this down or something.  _

“You two… know each other?” Kenma asked, finally looking a little skeptical at the apparent friendliness between the two. 

“Barely,” Keiji said at the same time ‘Suoh-kun’ said, “Yeah! We’re buds.” Keiji’s brow pinched at the declaration. He shook his head, glancing back to a dubious-looking Kenma,

“I sit in front of him in a few classes,” Keiji insisted. The taller blonde made a wounded expression, drawing his face into an overdramatic pout. 

“Aw, Kenma-kun, don’t listen to him- we  _ bonded _ at the party,” he shot Kenma a wink, whose brows shot to the ceiling. Keiji scowled, mortified. He shouldered the other’s arm off of him, no longer aiming for civility. This guy was getting on his nerves,  _ fast _ .

“ _ God,  _ we absolutely did not, I don’t even remember your-” Keiji paused mid sentence as he made a realization, “-wait, how do  _ you  _ two even know each other?” Kenma tilted his head, looking almost owlish at the question. 

“Kuroo,” the blondes said in unison. Keiji startled, looking between the two for an explanation.

“We’re friends, met him at work.” Keiji went through the five stages of grief rather quickly. 

_ He’s friends with Kuroo. Of  _ **_course_ ** _ he knows how to get under my skin.  _

Keiji ignored the twinge of guilt he felt at the thought of the bedhead, choosing to focus on the current dumbass he was dealing with instead. The same dumbass who just  _ put a hand on Keiji’s head.  _ He ruffled the curls, trailing a palm down to squeeze the back of his neck playfully. A long finger accidentally brushed against Keiji’s soulmark, sending a shock of discomfort through him. He went from mildly irritated to pissed within seconds. Keiji practically snarled, swatting the hand.

“Do you have  _ zero  _ sense of personal space? Back off!” The blonde quickly realized his mistake, hands held up in surrender and an apologetic look in his eyes. Kenma, the little  _ shit _ , looked horribly entertained by the interaction. 

“Shit, sorry man, I was just playing-” Keiji stormed off before he could finish. 

\----------

**RECEIVED: Kou (11:03 AM)**

**wtf**

**_Seen 11:04 AM_ **

**SENT: Kou (11:04 AM)**

**?????**

**_Seen 11:04 AM_ **

\----------

Although grimy, poorly lit, and just overall nauseating, the first-year bathrooms were a remarkable place for solitude. The majority of first-year boys used the one in the other wing, as it got more maintenance in a month than the other saw in a year. 

Cobalt eyes glowered back at him as Keiji watched his reflection, flickering between his sunburst and dull frown. Doubt swirled in his stomach as he thought of his soulmate. The strange blond had succeeded in riling him up, sure, but Keiji could recognize where his real anguish was coming from. 

_ Koutarou.  _

He traced the mark on his neck absentmindedly as he lost himself in the sounds of the leaky faucet. 

Seeing the blond’s face thrust the memories of that party to the forefront of Keiji’s mind after he’d spent the entire weekend focusing on  _ not  _ reliving that hurt. Recollections of the little captain trailing his hand down Koutarou’s stomach turned to conjured up images of something  _ more _ \- of the two doing things together that Keiji thought was for  _ them _ . Nausea crawled down his throat and settled into a stir in his stomach. 

_ This can’t be healthy,  _ he found himself thinking again. 

\----------

Keiji let loose a depraved moan. He couldn’t even find it in himself to be embarrassed, too pleased by the lips suctioning on his neck, licking up the trails of spit left behind after. He bucked up, tightening the grasp he had around thick shoulders.

“Kou,” he whined. Koutarou hummed back, kissing up his jaw before connecting their mouths in a sloppy, but alluring kiss. 

His soulmate had been restless the entire drive home from school, alternating between holding Keiji’s hand and rubbing his knee. After ensuring Keiji’s mom was still at work, he practically pounced on him the minute they got into Keiji’s room. Sure, Koutarou was  _ always  _ enthusiastic when they were making out, but there was an extra layer of urgency in his actions today. Keiji wasn’t exactly sure what had gotten into him, but he certainly wasn’t complaining. 

Koutarou gave Keiji’s nose a sweet peck before returning to his neck. He bit down, a lot rougher than usual. Keiji gasped. 

“Kou, you’re gonna leave a-” his head shot back, thumping against the board as Koutarou tugged Keiji’s thick curls to reveal more of his neck, making it easier to apply the same treatment to the spot where his soulmark was. Keiji’s toes curled at the sensitivity of the area and his eyes practically rolled back. The older boy pulled back after a minute, eyes fixated on the mark. 

_ Did he just give me a hickey?  _

After several mortifying talks with their parents, the two had gotten substantially better at not letting their libidos get the best of them and actually worked on  _ hiding  _ where they gave each other marks. Keiji couldn’t remember the last time Koutarou had given him such an obvious hickey- even longer since he did it on  _ purpose.  _

Koutarou pulled back entirely, clearly pleased with himself after leaving Keiji a mess next to him. He propped up against the headboard of Keiji’s bed, dragging the setter onto his chest and running a soothing hand along his spine.

“Did you- what-” Keiji was still panting. “Why?” he finally settled on, looking up at the cheery smirk. When Koutarou looked down, there was a bit of spite in his smile. 

“Hm, figured I’d give whoever’s touching your neck somethin’ nice to look at.” He twirled a dark curl around his forefinger. 

Keiji blanched, before raising his hands to hide his cherry cheeks and warm face behind them. 

Sounding mildly bitter, Koutarou said, “What, forgot I could feel that too?” He palmed at his soulmate’s waist a little  [ **possessively** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BqlV7oQhVmw) . 

It wasn’t so much that Keiji had forgotten Koutarou could feel his mark, but more so he was just  _ used  _ to it. Koutarou’s mark wasn’t exactly in a weird place and although he tended to avoid using it to touch others, the reverse couldn’t be said. People accidentally brushed against his palm often and Keiji had found himself well acquainted with his own mark’s uncomfortable prickle at the touch.  Koutarou, on the other hand, was not quite as familiar with the feeling. Keiji didn’t exactly let just anyone touch his neck-  _ for obvious reasons.  _

Keiji groaned, shaking his head and still hiding. 

“ _ No _ , Kou. No one is touching my neck  _ like that _ ,” Keiji removed his hands to give his soulmate an exasperated look, “Some  _ dumbass _ accidentally did it, he was just trying to piss me off. I don’t think he even knew where my mark was.” Koutarou visibly deflated, tension easing from his body. 

Although sometimes unavoidable, it was pretty offensive to intentionally touch someone’s soulmark. In short, it was the most hostile way to make the statement of “hey, I know they’re taken, but fuck you” to the other soulmate and all in all, a sure-fire way to get punched. 

Keiji crawled back, removing himself from a grumbling Koutarou’s arms. He raised his phone’s camera to inspect the damage.    


“Damnit, Koutarou.”

Underneath the swirl of his mark, his skin was starting to bruise- which would’ve  _ almost  _ been hidden by the soulmark, if it weren’t for the fact that Koutarou had practically mauled him. The hickey was nearly  _ double  _ the size of his soulmark, circling it in a plumish hue. Keiji pawed at the lovebite, shooting Koutarou a glare- although it lacked heat. 

“You know we’re gonna have to have dinner with my mom like this-” Keiji paused, squinting at the time on his phone, “-in like, an hour, right?” 

Though he hid it under a rueful smile, Keiji could see the way Koutarou was eyeing the bite with pride. 

“Sorry, Keiji,” Koutarou shrugged. “Maybe she won’t notice.” 

\---------- 

She did, in fact, notice. 

Keiji gripped the bridge of his nose, seeing the shaming look his mother was giving him in his peripheral. He couldn’t exactly blame her. They  _ had _ already had this conversation. 

_ “Keiji, honey, I know you’re teenage boys- teenage  _ **_soulmates,_ ** _ at that, but please,” _ she had sighed,  _ “Please do not make me see my baby boy covered in hickies; please hide that.”  _

“Hi, Auntie!” Koutarou was chipper as ever. Whether he was oblivious or pretending to be, Keiji couldn’t tell.

The soulmates had been finishing up in the kitchen when Keiji’s mother walked in. Keiji’s soul left his body as her eyes immediately snapped to his neck. Her nose wrinkled, looking between the two boys disapprovingly. 

Honestly, how did Koutarou expect her  _ not  _ to notice? It wasn’t exactly subtle in size or location. 

“Boys…” she started. Keiji was quick to shake his head, interrupting her. “I know, I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” A look of horror crossed Koutarou’s face as he followed her eyes to Keiji’s neck. 

“Sorry, Auntie.” Koutarou at least had the decency to look remorseful. “We finished dinner for you,” he offered sheepishly, lifting a bowl of soba. 

Her eyes softened at Koutarou, “Thank you, sweetheart.” Before accepting the bowl, she shot Keiji a look, implying this conversation was not done between them. He winced. 

Fortunately for Koutarou, the entire Akaashi family was weak for his puppy eyes. If only Keiji’s mom wasn’t immune to his. 

As if it was  _ his  _ fault Koutarou mistook his neck for a chew toy. 

\--------------------

There were numerous reasons Keiji was thankful the third-years’ exams were over: no more awkward lunches or missing his soulmate, the return of volleyball practice, but most of all…

Someone else had to endure this bullshit with him. 

The blond nuisance was back and more persistent than ever. When the soulmates had gotten to school the next day, he was lounging against Keiji’s locker, thumbs hammering away at some game on his phone. Koutarou looked a little confused, but was friendly enough,

“Hey man, you’re Kuroo’s friend, right? Ashikaga-kun?” 

_ Ah. So that’s his name.  _

Keiji scowled, already ruffled at the sight of him. 

“Yeah, that’s me. Who’re you?” Ashikaga nudged his shoulder in what would’ve been a playful gesture if not a little rough and definitely too familiar. Koutarou’s smile faltered. 

“M’ name’s Bokuto. Um, could you…” he gestured to Keiji’s locker. Ashikaga tilted his head like a lost puppy. Koutarou hesitated, uncomfortable, 

“... move?” Ashikaga laughed playfully. He rolled around, completing his circle at the locker left to Keiji’s with his head propped in their direction, a little too close to Keiji’s locker still. The pair waited for him to move further, but he was apparently done. The blond raised his eyebrows and gestured his head toward the locker, as if giving Keiji permission. 

**_The audacity._ **

Keiji wasn’t one to give up a challenge. Mimicking what the other had done to Koutarou, Keiji shouldered past Ashikaga to his locker. Ashikaga had gradually slid down, making Keiji tall enough for him to peer up at the setter with slitted brown eyes. Keiji attempted to ignore him. He was successful until- 

“That’s a big ass hickey.” Keiji slammed the locker shut. 

“Do you need something, Ashikaga-san?” Keiji’s tone was cold. His passive aggression was perhaps a little uncalled for, but something about this guy just  _ really  _ got under his skin. Sure, Ashikaga hadn’t done anything  _ explicitly  _ wrong. But dear god, Keiji  _ despised  _ being made fun of; That coupled with Ashikaga being a _walking reminder of the party_ left the setter feeling a little hostile. Everything in Keiji’s body language practically screamed “fuck off”, from his aloof expression to his inward turned shoulders, yet this guy wasn’t getting the hint. Or maybe he just didn’t care. 

“You finally remembered!” He clapped a hand over Keiji’s shoulder, squeezing like he had his neck the day before. 

“Wait, wait, wait, I remember you too-” Koutarou interrupted. Keiji watched as golden eyes narrowed, suddenly inspecting his face a little closer. “We met at the party last week.” His confusion had quickly shifted to irritation. In the spirit of honesty, Keiji really didn’t remember much of that party past Ashikaga helping him to a couch, but he had made a bad impression on Koutarou by the looks of it. 

Good. Keiji needed someone on his side. 

“Did we? Hmm, I don’t remember that. Just that Akaashi-kun was pretty upset,” Ashikaga didn’t sound nearly as playful anymore. 

_ I’m going to murder him.  _

Koutarou squinted at Keiji with a question in his eyes. 

“Why were you-” 

Priority #1 was getting the  _ fuck  _ out of this conversation. Keiji grabbed his soulmate’s forearm, not even sparing the blond a glance as he dragged Koutarou toward his class. The captain let him with little resistance, but Keiji could feel the muscles under his hand tensing. 

“That was… kind of weird,” Koutarou looked troubled. 

Keiji groaned, dragging a palm across his face, “ _ Tell me about it.”  _ Personally, he was eager to just pretend Ashikaga didn’t exist- though apparently Koutarou didn’t agree. 

“Why is he so friendly with you?” Koutarou asked, face carefully blank.

“You call that  _ friendly? _ ” Keiji snorted. “I think he’s just bored and looking for someone to antagonize.” Keiji tightened his hand around a thick wrist wrist, directing him down another hallway. He kept his gaze ahead, bemused by his soulmate’s behavior and why he cared  _ so much  _ about Ashikaga, but letting the uncertainty roll off him in favor of forgetting the entire interaction. 

The captain stayed silent, but continued trailing behind Keiji. That was apparently not the answer he wanted. 

“Okay. Whatever you say.” Despite the irritation in his voice, Koutarou  [ **dropped** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MSJmaeqtWSA) the subject. 

\----------

Keiji found himself eager for practice that day. There hadn’t been practice since the game that past Friday, and his fingers were itching with excitement to play. The itch was worsened by the frustrating events earlier. 

For better or for worse (he was leaning toward “worse”) Keiji had acquired a shadow. It seemed Ashikaga was  _ everywhere  _ since their conversation, always snarking behind him with a one-liner or two. The only person who seemed more upset with this turn of events than Keiji was Koutarou, whose already bad mood had soured into an outright slump. He spent most of the day lost in his thoughts, breaking out to occasionally send his soulmate a half-hearted smile when Keiji would pat his shoulder.

Seems like the only person who liked Ashikaga around there was Kuroo. 

“Since when are you two friends with Ashikaga?” he asked, voice strained, when they entered the locker room. The third-year was propped against a wall of lockers, stretching the muscles in his legs before releasing them with a ‘ _pop!’_ and a bordering-on-pornographic groan of relief _._ Keiji grimaced in disgust. “I love that guy, he’s fuckin’ hilarious.” 

“Of course, you would find him funny,” Keiji was trying to tease, but the discomfort in his voice made it sound more pained. There was still guilt wracking him from the way he’d treated Kuroo that Friday and he hadn’t exactly had any opportunity to see whether or not the boy was still upset with him. 

Luckily, Kuroo didn’t seem to notice. “What does that even mean?” he said with his jaw dropped, brows knit together to paint a theatrical look of offense. 

“I don’t… we’re not friends,” Koutarou interrupted before the banter could really take root. His jaw was tight and he shielded his eyes from Kuroo, choosing to grab his practice gear with a little  _ too  _ much force. Kuroo startled at the hostility, shooting Keiji a questioning glance. He heaved a sigh, shrugging his shoulders in response. 

“ _ What?”  _ Kuroo drew out the middle of the word like a petulant toddler. “But I saw you guys…” he trailed off at the shake of Keiji’s head. The message was clear-

_ Drop it. _

More of their team members entered the room, filling the now otherwise silent space with chatter and boasts about their recent win. Koutarou grabbed Keiji’s chin, pressing a brief but affectionate kiss to his cheekbone before making his way toward the gym in silence. No one other than his two best friends had noticed his foul mood yet. 

Konoha approached Keiji right as he was tugging on a pair of knee pads, leg propped on the bench next to him. He patted Kuroo on the back as he passed, but didn’t dawdle- 

“Um, is he having… _ a moment _ ?” Konoha asked, emphasizing the last part. Keiji held himself back from wrinkling his nose in distaste. He knew Konoha meant well, but there was little he hated more than the way people talked about Koutarou’s mood swings as if he were a child throwing a tantrum. Koutarou’s mother did the same thing, and Keiji knew it bothered him, even if he sometimes  _ was  _ being melodramatic. There was almost always an underlying issue at hand. 

“He’s okay, I think something just bothered him today. I’ll calm him down,” Keiji assured. Konoha gave a tight-lipped smile, before patting Keiji’s shoulder just as he had Kuroo’s and making his way toward the door. The room had mostly cleared out at that point, leaving only Keiji and Kuroo behind. A blip of panic entered Keiji’s radar when Kuroo finished tying his shoes, ready to leave.

“Wait- Kuroo-san, um,” Keiji stuttered. Kuroo glanced over his shoulder at Keiji, waiting for him to collect himself.

“I’m…” Keiji hesitated. 

_ He’s gonna be pissed at you. What are you doing with some half-assed apology right before practice? He already didn’t like you that much and then you had to go and hurt his feelings. This wouldn’t be an issue if you weren’t such a dick.  _

Doubt piled up in his brain, questions of how bad he had burned this bridge with Kuroo. Did he even  _ want  _ an apology? Keiji was sure his mounting discomfort was visible in his fingers, which were twitching and practically begging Keiji to just  _ say something.  _

“‘Kaashi? Everything okay?” Kuroo had returned back to his spot next to Keiji, voice uncharacteristically gentle. 

“Sorry… for what I said at the party,” Keiji hoped his inability to meet Kuroo’s eyes didn’t come across as disingenuous. “I was hurt and I took it out on you. And I’m really sorry.” The following silence did wonders for worsening Keiji’s anxiety, but he still found himself too nervous to look up at the older boy. 

His apology was shit, clearly, but he hoped the Kuroo could hear the honesty in it. 

Keiji heard a hum, before a large hand plopped in his hair, twisting around and disarraying his curls. 

“Thanks, man.” Kuroo didn’t sound pissed. Keiji finally lifted his eyes, meeting a fond smile. Relief filled his stomach, swatting away the swarm of anxiety and taking its place. He gave his own small smile in response. 

“Bokuto’s my bro, but y’know we’re friends too, right, ‘Kaashi-kun?” 

Warmth filled Keiji’s heart at the statement. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, thank u so much again for all the love, kudos, comments, hits, etc. i appreciate it so much & it makes my day. 
> 
> also if you wanna chat, my tumblr is: bubble-tea-and-biodiversity


	5. Inevitably Hurt.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Koutarou was a sun, one who immediately pulled most people into his orbit. Keiji had always been the lonely little moon, just as blinded by his light as the rest of them."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hellooo, here i am again
> 
> 1\. the next two weeks are finals and i am dying, but here this is friends  
> 2\. if u couldn't tell, bokuto and akaashi rlly need to communicate LMAO  
> 3\. also if keiji feels a little ooc at some parts, pls remember he's like-- been ready to burst for weeks now.  
> 4\. also wow idk wtf came over me the first half of this chapter, but i was really feeling the sweet shit.  
> 5\. if you wanna chat, my tumblr is bubble-tea-and-biodiversity

This was apparently where Keiji died; He was going to melt into a pile of goo at the young age of seventeen. On his tombstone, it would say, ‘Death by Soulmate’. 

Sitting on the couch in front of him was the most heartwarming thing he’d ever seen. Chubby little fingers tugged at Koutarou’s hair, styling black and grey locks into a mohawk, before shrieking in laughter when Koutarou shook it out and ruined her progress. The teenager was propped against the back of the couch, leaning on his hands so as not to crush the toddler’s legs. 

The Bokutos’ home-daycare had flourished over the years. It wasn’t common for a business like theirs to be so lenient about drop-off and pick-up hours, gaining it a reputable name in the community. Bokuto Sango being fantastic with kids was just an additional bonus. 

More often than not, if the boys weren’t doing schoolwork or sneaking away to Keiji’s for privacy, they were helping Koutarou’s mother run the daycare. Sango-san made it clear that although unnecessary, it was still greatly appreciated. Today was a little out of the norm. 

Right as practice was ending that Friday, Koutarou received a call from his frantic mother. She wouldn’t explain why, only that something had come up and it was urgent that Koutarou bust his ass to get home and watch the children. With two grateful kisses to their cheeks, she had thrown on a coat and rushed out the door, leaving them stunned. 

That had been around five, and as the hours crept by, child after child was picked up with no sign of Sango-san until there was only one. 

“ Kiji-chan!” the little brunette exclaimed, “Look at his hair, Kiji-chan.” She yanked a recent addition, a pigtail in the back to match her own. Koutarou winced a little at the tug. 

“Mm, I see, Aiko-chan.” Keiji smiled from where he was curled up in the lounge chair, feet tucked under his long legs. 

“Aren’t Kou-chan and I pretty?” she leaned her head towards Koutarou’s to dangle her own pigtail next to his, pink cheeks brushing against the mess of hair.

After hearing how they addressed each other, Aiko-chan had picked up their habits.‘Kou’ was easy enough. ‘Keiji’ apparently was not. 

“Very pretty,” Keiji assured. His gentle smile turned to a teasing smirk at his soulmate’s flared cheeks. Aiko-chan’s cheery grin stretched into a yawn. A glance at the clock confirmed it was likely getting close to her bedtime. Her parents were nurses at the local hospital and likely wouldn’t be home for awhile, that much was certain, but--

_ Where is Auntie?  _

Decidedly done with playtime, Aiko-chan pushed at Koutarou’s head none too gently to make room for her to crawl out from behind him. 

“Kiji-chan,” she grumbled, stumbling toward Keiji with arms reached out. Koutarou looked a little affronted. Keiji restrained his smile, lifting her when she reached him for her to curl her arms around his neck like a baby koala and settle in his lap. 

“Wha--? So I’m good enough to play with but not  _ cuddle?”  _ Koutarou’s whine rivaled Aiko-chan’s. The little girl peered over her shoulder, cheek brushing against Keiji’s, 

“Kiji-chan’s hair is more comfy. It’s so  _ soft. _ ” Her touch in Keiji’s hair was significantly more gentle than she had been with the other boy, as if she were touching something delicate. She buried a cold nose in his shoulder, dismissing any further argument on the topic. Koutarou chuckled and Keiji's shoulders shook with laughter despite his best attempts not to stir the little girl. 

As he struggled to keep his own eyes open, Keiji considered how  _ nice  _ it was to see Koutarou smiling. To the misfortune of practically everyone in their lives, it had been a rough week for the captain. His mood varied from irritable to gloomy at school, worsened by the invasive presence of Ashikaga. Keiji found himself the latest fixation of the blond’s mischief and unfortunately spent most of the week listening to Ashikaga prattle on beside him. As much as he hated to admit it, he’d almost grown accustomed to the constant jabbering. Not only did they share the majority of their classes, but the blond had taken to walking with them between classes as well. 

Don’t misunderstand-- Keiji still found the guy insufferable 99% of the time, but  _ maybe  _ there was something to what Kuroo was saying about him being funny. Koutarou did not agree. The taller boy had practically burst a blood vessel when Ashikaga startled a laugh out of Keiji one morning. 

Keiji figured his soulmate missed their privacy, which he really couldn’t blame him for. Ashikaga was kind of…  _ everywhere.  _ He had never realized how much he treasured those small pockets of peace between classes before they were interrupted. 

Koutarou’s irritation bled into practice as well, spiking the balls a  _ little  _ too hard and tolerating mistakes worse than he normally did. He’d even almost nailed Konoha during practice. 

In fact, the only time the tension trickled from his shoulders was at home, and for that at least, Keiji was relieved. 

A peck on his nose roused him, droopy eyelids fluttering open to see his soulmate kneeling on the ground beside them with Aiko-chan snoring lightly in his ear as they practically melted into the chair. Keiji furrowed his brows, barely awake, and opened his mouth to speak before Koutarou lifted a finger to his own lips. Keiji snapped his jaw shut and continued staring drowsily through ink-black lashes. 

Koutarou reached up tentatively. His hand fell into a familiar position, cupping Keiji’s jaw to press their marks together. The skin tingled where they connected. Keiji raised a brow, a silent question at the way Koutarou was looking at him. Soft strokes against his cheek soothed him back to sleep. 

When he awoke next, it was to the sound of hushed voices, 

“ _ Calm down, Koutarou! You’re gonna wake Keiji-kun.”  _ Was that Sango-san? A scoff, and then, 

“ _ You’re just making excuses so you don’t have to talk about this.”  _ Although quaking, there was an edge to Koutarou’s voice. Keiji nearly startled at the sound, surprised to hear it come out of his soulmate. Koutarou’s anger was boisterous, loud,  _ fiery.  _ Nothing like the frost dripping from his words. 

“ _ I know you’re upset, honey, but you don’t get to speak to me like that.”  _ Now his mother’s voice was trembling as well, sounding close to tears. 

“This is what I’m talking about!” he said at a normal volume, as if it burst out of him. She shushed him. He lowered his voice again, “ _ This is what I’m talking about. You’re avoiding it. Why would you lie about this?”  _

Keiji’s breath was shallow, unsure whether or not he should make them aware of his presence. Anxiety rose at both options: interrupting or eavesdropping. 

_ “I don’t…”  _ A deep sigh,  _ “I don’t know what you want me to say. It’s been a year, Koutarou. He’s already moved on, don’t you think I should too? And nothing is going to change anytime soon, baby, it was one dat--”  _

Interrupting, it was; he’d heard too much already. Keiji shot up, mimicking a yawn and stretching his lengthy arms. 

“Mm, hi Auntie,” he said, attempting to sound freshly cognizant and like he hadn’t just heard their entire conversation. “Where’d Aiko-chan go?” 

The mother and son were frozen across the room, Sango-san with her arms in a gesture midair, and Koutarou with wide eyes. The pair looked guilty, as if caught in the act of stealing. Sango-san dropped her stance to approach Keiji. 

“Hi sweetheart,” she said softly. As she got closer, Keiji’s stomach sank. Sango-san clearly hadn’t had time to change before coming home, dressed in a blossom patterned blouse and black pencil skirt. Her hair had been twirled in a lazy, but beautiful updo, which she had begun to take out. The movement wafted the smell of her perfume-- the kind she saved for special occasions. “Aiko-chan’s father picked her up a little while ago, his shift ended early.” 

Keiji felt a flicker of disappointment at missing the chance to say goodbye but was quickly overshadowed by unease. Despite her nonchalance, the strain in her voice was clear. 

“Um, I should be getting home…” Nevermind the fact he’d been planning on spending the night. 

“Oh, honey, you can just stay. It’s past midnight,” she insisted, setting a hand on his shoulder. 

_ Midnight?  _ Keiji glanced at Koutarou, who was two steps ahead of him,

“Yeah. Midnight,” Koutarou said flatly, followed by a scoff. His gaze fixated on Keiji’s in complete disregard of his mother. “Wonder what took you so long.” A tired sigh released from her lips, running a hand down her face. 

“Kou…” she trailed off, looking like a wilted rose. Koutarou brushed past her dismissively and grasped Keiji's wrist, gentle as always even when cross. Keiji let himself be pulled, giving Sango-san a soft wave. Before Koutarou could close the door, there was a call from the living room, 

“Leave the door cracked, boys.” She sounded terribly worn, as if the conversation had caused her to age. Keiji couldn’t blame her. 

\----------

His soulmate really was a sight to behold, and Keiji was convinced this was not subjective . 

Koutarou had always been an…  _ active _ sleeper; fumbling around during the night, an occasional whack or two, sometimes Keiji even woke up entirely rearranged. This morning was no exception. 

At some point in the night, the two had shifted from spooning to Keiji’s back propped against the headboard, Koutarou’s face buried in his stomach with two arms circling around him. Keiji gazed down fondly, softly brushing his seldomly loose bangs away from his face to stroke the temple peaking out. His other hand was soothing circles along where Koutarou’s shirt had hiked up in the back to reveal his spine. 

Keiji [**marveled**](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pQ_YRnEkaTs) at the sunlight that trickled in to spill across his soulmate’s muscles, settling in the dips. Grey lashes fluttered before disappearing in the crevices of a grimacing face, followed by a mumble and a squeeze around his waist. Keiji lifted his hands, feeling a bit guilty for waking Koutarou. 

“Nooo,” the older boy groaned, shoving his face against Keiji’s stomach, “Put ‘m back, righ’ now.” The words were pressed into Keiji’s skin, tickling him and losing some of their coherence. Of course, Keiji obliged.

_ God.  _ He was so in love. 

Another murmur from Koutarou was lost to the press of his lips,

“What, Kou?” he asked. 

“I said, thank you,” Koutarou cleared his throat, “y’know, for not… talking about it, last night.” Keiji had to force himself not to react. 

“Hm, not sure what you mean,” he said with a shrug, continuing his affectionate touch along the nape of Koutarou’s neck. His soulmate let out a playful scoff, 

“I know you were awake, Keiji. Your nose was doing that scrunch-y thing.” His voice sounded terribly fond before digging his own cold nose back into the stomach he was laying on. The two were silent for a few minutes, basking in the morning glow. Keiji felt the mouth pressed against his skin spread into a Chesire cat smile. 

“Y’know… we don’t have to go to practice today...” A kiss was placed above his belly button. “Or help my mom with the daycare...” Another peck, a little lower this time. “We pretty much have the whole day to ourselves…” This kiss was a little wetter, pressed directly against his navel. 

“O--oh?” Keiji tried to sound unfazed. He dug his heels into the sheets, determined not to buck into the touch. A nervous glance at the door confirmed it was in fact, still open. He prayed Sango-san had slept in. 

“Y’know what I wanna do?” Koutarou nosed against the spot, moving closer to the goal. “That we haven’t had time to do in a while?” Gleaming eyes met his, black swallowing the gold as he placed a final open-mouthed kiss right above the hem of Keiji’s pajamas. 

“Wha...t?” Keiji’s eyes rolled back, head pressing against the pillow and accepting his fate. He waited, but was met with silence until--

“We,” Koutarou nuzzled the skin, “should go visit Kuroo at work.” Quicker than the other boy could react, Koutarou pushed his head back up to his belly button, blowing a wet raspberry there. As ashamed as he was to admit this, Keiji shrieked. He frantically shoved at Koutarou’s cackling face to force him away while he scrambled back, lifting his legs as a shield. 

“If you were trying to sweeten me up,” Keiji panted, “that was not the way to do it.” 

“What did you  _ think _ was gonna happen, baby?” Koutarou teased, the innocent tilt of his head a stark contrast to his wolfish grin. 

“Either way, I am  _ not  _ spending my Saturday at an arcade, Koutarou.” 

\----------

Keiji found himself spending his Saturday at an arcade, much to his chagrin. The pair passed by Kenma, whose face was lit by neon colors as he wasted away at his soulmate’s daily allowance of tokens from his work. Kuroo’s shift was nearly over, but before that the soulmates had had some time to themselves. 

There were a lot of things Keiji could be considered a pushover about: helping with homework, outings with Koutarou to places he didn’t particularly like, which side of the bed he slept on-- basically anything  _ at all _ regarding his soulmate… Competition was not one of these things. 

“ _ Keiji _ ,” Koutarou groaned, “Couldn’t you go a little easier on me?” The two had been playing air hockey for a while now, and Koutarou had  _ barely  _ won once, and even that was more attributed to the cheap shots. 

“No.” Koutarou yelped as Keiji got another goal in, winning him another round. The tips of his mouth crept up. 

“Stop. Stop it with that smug smile, you bastard.” Keiji sucked in his lips, barely holding back a grin. 

“I’m not smug.” Keiji was full of shit-  _ of course  _ he was smug. Very smug. 

The two shifted between a few more games (Keiji _ easily  _ kicking his soulmate’s ass at most of them) before they heard Kuroo calling for them, 

“Oi! Bo! ‘Kaashi!” Kuroo waved them over, an arm draped around Kenma’s shoulder as the shorter boy scowled at the same machine. He was still wearing his uniform, black trousers and a hideous red button down with a white stripe across it; It could’ve easily been mistaken for a bowling outfit.

“Hi, Kuroo-san,” Keiji greeted, not quite as intimate as his soulmate’s bear hug (which Kuroo accepted warmly), but certainly not unfriendly. Begrudgingly, Keiji had grown a bit of a soft spot for the third-year. Ever since their conversation in the locker room, he’d been texting Keiji  _ a lot _ , nearly as much as he texted Koutarou. Most of it was pointless, some meme or a picture of Kenma’s grumpy face, but the thoughtfulness of the simple gesture left a newfound appreciation for Kuroo-- and  _ maybe  _ a bit of affection. 

“Drop the honorific, ‘Kaashi,” Kuroo reached to ruffle his curls, but his hand skimmed past when Keiji ducked. “Or at least the ‘-san’.” Keiji gave a dismissive hum. 

“Did you guys run into Ashikaga coming in? I think he’s working concessions today,” Kenma added, eyes still glued to the screen. Keiji’s and Koutarou’s reactions were nearly identical: grimaces. 

“I’m suddenly no longer hungry,” Keiji said dryly. Kuroo looked affronted by the comment. He shook his head, tutting and dropping an arm around Keiji’s shoulder. 

“C’mon, why’re you guys so hard on him? Ashi’s great!” Keiji wrinkled his nose and shoved at the arm, but Kuroo had an unfortunately strong grip. 

“He’s  _ annoying, _ Kuroo-san.” Keiji finally managed to slip under an arm, reconsidering his positioning between the two and choosing to stand by Kenma instead. Koutarou hadn’t said much, his eyes glazed beneath pinched brows. 

“You just gotta give him a chance, guys. He’s funny, really. And the dude’s a big softie, I think he’s just picking at you ‘cause he wants to be your friend, ‘Kaashi,” Kuroo leaned in, eyes shifting back and forth as if about to reveal a secret, “I don’t think he  _ has  _ a lot of friends.” 

_ As if,  _ Keiji snarked to himself. Ashikaga had the confidence of someone with a whole city wrapped around their finger-- there was no way the guy was anything less than a social butterfly. 

“Why are we talking about Ashikaga?” Koutarou interjected. His words were testy, his tone of voice even more so. “I’m sick of always talking about that jackass.” Without giving the others time to respond or even bothering to spare them a glance, he shouldered past Kuroo and towards a machine, forcing a few tokens in the slot a little harder than necessary.

The three left behind were silent, stunned by the scale of Koutarou’s reaction. “He’s not… that bad,” Kuroo said hesitantly, as if considering whether or not he had missed something. Even Kenma’s mask of neutrality had vanished, a bewildered expression left behind. It was disguised as quickly as it appeared. 

“Let’s go then, hm?” Kenma said. The short boy hopped off the gaming stool, ignoring the booming countdown to the next level in favor of approaching Koutarou. Kuroo raised his hands in bafflement. 

“ _ What the fuck?”  _ he mouthed at Keiji, before heading in the same direction. Well, what choice did Keiji have other than to follow? 

The next hour was… awkward, to say the least. Koutarou’s mood had gone from bad to worse. Both Kuroo and Keiji had done their best to help him bounce back: amping up their compliments and affection, playing his favorite games, even going as far as intentionally letting him win to distract him-- but it was hopeless. Koutarou was stubborn, and if he decided it was going to be a shit day-- it was going to be a shit day for _everyone._ Beating the captain was fun if (and _only_ if) he was trying. 

Koutarou was alternating between staring at his phone and playing an occasional lousy game. If Keiji hadn’t been there, he would’ve assumed  _ Koutarou  _ had been the one forced into coming. 

Kuroo and Keiji had been trading off the role of “Koutarou’s Personal Cheerleader” the entire time. Keiji was currently on duty, and the pair of soulmates were watching Kenma kick Kuroo’s ass at some shooting game. 

“Kou,” Keiji brushed his fingers lightly against the boy’s shoulder. Koutarou’s eyes peered at him from the side before flickering back to the game; the only indication that he had even heard Keiji speak was a dismissive hum that rumbled from his chest. Keiji closed his eyes, releasing a shaky sigh in an attempt to brush off the hurt. 

_ He’s not actually mad at you. He’s just in a mood. You didn’t do anything wrong. He’s not mad at you,  _ Keiji knew this, but a knot of anxiety was still coiling in his lungs. 

“Do you just wanna go home, baby?” Keiji was really pulling out all the tricks here, desperately trying to maintain his patience. Koutarou would normally lose his mind when the younger boy called him a pet name-- maybe that’d soften him up. 

“No,” he said bluntly. He dug his phone out as it chimed again, furiously typing away before stuffing it back in his pocket. Koutarou’s attention returned to the game right as Kuroo’s character got shot, who then frantically shuffled through his pockets in search of another token to revive. 

“Kou, you’re not even--” Koutarou shot him a foul glare, startling him. Although quite familiar with it, Keiji couldn’t think of the last time it’d been directed his way. “Keiji,  _ back off. _ ” Keiji felt as if a cork had plunged down his throat, tightening his chest and blocking his airways. He took a step backward, obliging like he always did. 

Despite his best attempts, Keiji could feel a pressure building behind his eyes. In an effort to distract himself, he focused his attention back on the game. Kuroo had apparently gotten his first win and was gloating, 

“Just admit it, Kenma. I’m a  _ god.”  _ Kuroo spun around in the seat, turning to face the other two soulmates, “Did’ja see that ‘Kaash…” he trailed off, glancing between Keiji’s suspiciously wet-looking eyes and Koutarou, whose face was buried in his phone. Keiji could’ve sworn he saw steam blow out of Kuroo’s ears. 

“Dude, Bokuto,  _ put your fuckin’ phone away,”  _ The previous excitement from winning had left his voice. “Why are you in such a mood, huh?” Gold met gold, heated eye contact simmering between the two.

“What kind of ‘mood’ am I in, Kuroo?” Koutarou asked, venom dripping from his voice. Kuroo scoffed.

“The kind where you act like a prick.” 

“You’re the one picking a fight, making something out of nothing,” Koutarou hissed, bristling like a riled animal. He took a step toward Kuroo, but Kenma cut in, holding a single hand up, 

“Stop. You,” he pointed at Koutarou, “back up. And you, sit down.” Keiji hadn’t even noticed Kuroo rising from his seat until Kenma yanked him down. Despite his bitter expression, Kuroo complied, shifting his back to Koutarou.

“We have like, 5000 yen worth of tokens here. If you,” Kenma nodded to Koutarou, “wanna start a fight, go find someone else and blow off some steam. Kuroo, Keiji-kun, and I are gonna stay.” The blonde turned back to the screen, leaving no room for argument. Koutarou ground his teeth for a few seconds before clenching his jaw and leaning back, sufficiently chastised. 

Keiji loved Koutarou, flaws and everything. Probably more than anything else in the world-- no,  _ definitely  _ more than anything else in the world. But for the first time in a long time, Keiji wished he wasn’t anywhere near his soulmate.

_ Stop being selfish. He needs you, something is clearly wrong.  _ Keiji was at a loss. He wanted to comfort him, wanted Koutarou to  _ let  _ Keiji comfort him, but he was suddenly treating Keiji like a pushy  [ **stranger** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=78DVtcsT26k) rather than his soulmate. 

It didn’t help that every time Koutarou pulled his phone out, Keiji felt his confusion grow. What could  _ possibly  _ be that interesting? Was someone  _ else  _ upsetting him? Despite his conscience telling him not to, Keiji couldn’t help but sneak a glance at his phone. 

The way Koutarou shoulders were curved inward, he was barely able to see the bottom of the screen, but it was enough:

**RECEIVED: Fujita-kun (1:26 PM)**

**Are you ever going to tell Akaashi-kun?**

**_Seen 1:29 PM_ **

**SENT TO: Fujita-kun (1:30 PM)**

**ur kidding right? of course not**

**_Seen 1:31 PM_ **

Keiji no longer felt like he was suffocating. No, he was  _ smoldering.  _ His nostrils flared as he considered the implications of what he had just read.

_ He wants me to back off? I’ll back the fuck off.  _

Keiji stood abruptly. “I’m leaving,” he announced, snatching his coat from where it’d hung over the railing. Koutarou looked up at him surprised, opening his mouth before Keiji interrupted, 

“By myself.” He didn’t bother looking for the others’ reactions before his sudden departure. Someone might’ve called after him, but the sound was lost to the crowd of people around them. His head began to throb, and eventually angry tears ran in rivulets down his cheeks and spilled down his neck as he searched for an exit. 

Relief flooded through him at the sight of a doorway, but he stopped in his tracks as he saw something else.  _ Someone  _ else. Before he could talk himself out of it, Keiji was making a beeline for the concessions. 

Lucky for him, there wasn’t a line, making it easy for him to achieve his goal. He slammed his palms down on the counter, startling a jump out of the distracted worker.

“You know what,” Keiji started wryly, “You’re a real son of a bitch, but at least you tell it to me straight. So tell me,  _ Ashikaga-kun,”  _ he practically sneered his name. “What exactly is it about me that screams ‘doormat’?” For the first time since they’d met, the blond looked speechless. Keiji didn’t even give him a chance to respond, 

“Because  _ you  _ seem to think so,  _ Koutarou _ seems to think so,  _ that little shit from the other team seemed to think so--”  _ his voice grew more hostile toward the end, increasing in volume. He released the air that had built up in his lungs, blowing the smoke out from the wildfire. “So what is it?” Ashikaga sputtered, 

“What is-- what is  _ what? _ ” Keiji waved his hands around hysterically gesturing to himself. 

“What is wrong with  _ me? _ ” Keiji gasped out, the rage leaving his voice as quickly as it had come. Keiji panted as he tried to recover his breath from the outburst, considered playing it off as a joke, but it was too late. The blond was slack jawed. 

“I… wow.  _ Wow, _ ” Ashikaga looked like he was trying to recover as well. “I did  _ not  _ think you were capable of speaking that much.” Keiji’s frown deepened, but Ashikaga was quick to placate him,

“ _ Hey,  _ I didn’t say it was a bad thing- let’s just...” his eyes darted between Keiji and the clock. “Give me like ten minutes, yeah? I’m almost off, and then we can unpack… whatever the hell this is.” He gestured at Keiji with a rigid palm. The boy huffed impatiently, but plopped down in a stool nonetheless. 

Keiji didn’t know why he chose to wait. He could’ve just as easily bolted and pretended this had never happened, maybe  _ try  _ to salvage what was left of his wounded pride. The longer he sat there, the dumber he felt. What exactly was going to happen here? Keiji makes a fool of himself and Ashikaga’s teasing is relentless the following Monday? 

_ What am I even doing?  _

His growing hesitance must’ve been visible on his face, because Ashikaga pointed a finger at him,

“You wait right there, Akaashi Keiji, I just need like  _ two more minutes _ ,” he said, waggling his finger before heading into a door labeled ‘ **_EMPLOYEES ONLY_ ** ’. Quicker than expected, he was rushing back out, one arm in a jacket while the other struggled to find the other hole. 

“Alright, let’s go.” The blond nodded to the exit, emphasized by the sunlight spilling into the dark arcade. 

“Where are we going?” Keiji asked, but didn’t wait to follow. Ashikaga side-eyed him in a manner eerily similar to what his soulmate had done earlier, but without the disdain. He shrugged, but a layer of nerves was poorly hidden under his nonchalance,

“For a walk-- anywhere. You guide us, I’ll follow along.” And so Keiji did. 

In spite of Ashikaga insisting they were going to “unpack” Keiji’s issue, they were ten minutes in and no one had said a word. They had found their way into the nearby commercial area, and the streets were lined with little shops which neither paid much attention to. Ashikaga’s gaze was focused ahead, flickering from the sidewalk to the town around them. Although grateful for the silence, Keiji was a little perturbed. He cleared his throat, meeting brown eyes,

“You said that was the most you’ve heard me talk, but I think this is the  _ least  _ I’ve heard you talk.” The pair stopped at a busy intersection, cars dashing each and every way. Ashikaga’s hands which had been previously stuffed in pockets crept out to push the crosswalk button before skittering back to the warmth. He cocked his head at the comment, a mild look on his face. 

“Mm,” he grunted, “figured you’d talk when you felt like it.” Keiji frowned at him. 

“But I asked  _ you  _ a question,” he said insistently. Ashikaga rubbed his chin; the gesture was particularly showy and it immediately caused Keiji’s hackles to raise in preparation for Ashikaga’s usual personality. Keiji should’ve expected this; he was being too nice. 

“Well, Akaashi-kun,” he started, “Let me clear the air first.” He stopped as soon as they had made it across in favor of turning to Keiji. “I do  _ not  _ think of you as a doormat. I think you’re a pretty cool guy, yeah?” Keiji was baffled. 

“Why are you always trying to pick at me then?” he asked, irritation rising by the second. A look of hurt flashed across Ashikaga’s face before it was schooled into a wry smile. 

“I’m not trying to upset you, Akaashi, I’m just teasing.” The two hadn’t moved in quite some time, awkwardly standing across from each other. “Kuroo’s always fucking around, and you like him, don’t you?” Ashikaga almost looked shy, tucking rosy-red hands under his arms to shield them from the cold. 

“Yeah, but that’s different…” Keiji hesitated. “We’re friends.” The word felt strange on his tongue. In the past, Keiji had always seen him more as Koutarou’s friend than anything else-- maybe a teammate at best. He hadn’t considered that Kuroo even thought of him that way until recently, and it was almost as if Kuroo had picked up on that from how affectionate he’d become. 

“Haven’t you ever thought that maybe, just maybe--” Ashikaga leaned in conspiratorially, “ _ I  _ wanna be your friend?” Keiji flushed. 

No. No, he hadn’t thought that. 

“Oh.” Keiji was suddenly reevaluating their interactions through a different lens and the more he did, the more sense it made. 

“But-- even Kou thought you were trying to be an asshole,” he stammered. A laugh barked out of the other boy. 

“Oh, oh no--” he smiled impishly, “I didn’t say I wanted to be  _ his  _ friend.” Keiji’s jaw dropped slightly in shock, nose wrinkling. 

“Why would you want to be friends with  _ me  _ and not Koutarou?” As well as being confused, Keiji’s feathers were also a little ruffled for his soulmate. Koutarou was a sun, one who immediately pulled most people into his orbit. Keiji had always been the lonely little moon, just as blinded by his light as the rest of them. 

“He’s a jerk,” Ashikaga said matter-of-factly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I’ve only known him personally for a little over two weeks, and he’s already made his soulmate cry twice.”

“He’s not--  _ he’s not a jerk, _ ” Keiji hissed. “And I thought you’re all,” he waved his hands around, searching for the correct phrase, “ _ weird  _ about soulmate stuff.” Ashikaga chuckled again, less haughty this time. 

“I’m not  _ ‘weird’  _ about soulmate stuff, I don’t see it the way most people do, Akaashi-kun. People think that if they’re soulmates, they’re gonna have some great love story, and it just doesn’t have to be that way. It probably  _ won’t  _ be that way for them. They’re gonna live a mediocre life with someone they feel an obligation to be with when in reality, maybe they would’ve been better off as friends,” he paused, “and he  _ is  _ a jerk.” 

Keiji’s stomach always stirred in discomfort when Ashikaga brought this up. Not because he necessarily disagreed, he understood romantic soulmates could crash and burn, but because of the doubts and insecurities this kind of conversation brought to the forefront of his mind. Yes, soulmates could be platonic, but _him and Koutarou-- w_ ho could make him melt with a single smile? Was it even possible for them to be on such different wavelengths about their feelings for each other? For him to love Koutarou as much as he did, and the other to feel _nothing?_

As if having read his mind, Ashikaga continued, “As for Bokuto, I’m not gonna deny that one. He treats you like a doormat and you let him.” Ignoring Ashikaga’s sardonic smile, Keiji rubbed a hand across his face, his cheek stretching as he pulled it down.

“It’s not always like that. Koutarou is wonderful, really,” Keiji said, defensive even when Koutarou hurt him. “No one else can make me feel the way he does,” he insisted. “I know you don’t believe me, but the way he treats me is like… like he can’t handle how much he loves me.” Keiji felt a little conceited at the words, but it was true. “Even if it’s not the way I want him to love me.” Keiji had overshared at this point, but it was beyond him to care. 

“But is the good really worth the bad there, ‘Kaashi-kun?” Ashikaga pushed. 

“Yes,” Keiji said without a doubt. “A life without Koutarou in it is not bearable. He’s my best friend, and even if that was all he wanted-- _wants_ from me, that’s what I’ll [**take**](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J9Zjgb03FMQ).” 

Ashikaga looked skeptical. “I don’t get it, man.” 

“Well,  _ I  _ still don’t  _ ‘get’ _ why you want to be my friend, Ashikaga-san,” he said, sighing. Ashikaga raised an incredulous brow, 

“Why would I  _ not  _ want to be friends with you?” he asked. “You’re smart, you’re funny-- but like in that dry, witty kinda way, y’know and not to mention--,” he leaned in and shot Keiji a cheeky smile, “ _ pretty, _ ” he teased. Keiji scowled, shoving his face away with a flat palm. 

“Stop,” he said, but his lips twitched. “You’re not nearly as funny as you think you are.” He looked down, nervously fiddling with his thumbs. “But... thank you, though. I don’t really have a lot of friends,” as soon as he said the vulnerable words, he wished he could take them back. Standing here in the middle of the bustling town speaking with Ashikaga, he felt a little exposed. “It’s kind of nice to know someone actually wants to be around me.”  _ God.  _ He made it so much worse. 

His words were met with silence. Eventually, he snuck a glance. Ashikaga’s face was soft, looking at Keiji like he was something fragile, easy to snap in half if not handled carefully. 

“You know, you’re not--” his eyes flickered for a moment, searching for the right words, “you know that I’ll always want you around, right?” If Keiji had delved a little deeper into the meaning of his words, maybe he would’ve been able to predict some of what was to come and saved everyone a lot of heartache.

“Thank you, Ashikaga-san. You’re a good friend.” 

\----------

To the surprise of his mother, when Keiji arrived home that day, he was alone. As he pushed open the front door, he heard his mother call out, 

“Hi boys!” Keiji’s heart ached at the thought of his soulmate. 

“Just me, Mom,” Keiji yelled back, hoping she couldn’t hear the tremor in his voice. Her head popped out of the kitchen with a puzzled look in her eyes, the rest of her body still behind the wall.

“Oh? Where’s Kou-kun? Sango told me you had went somewhere together,” she asked. Keiji refused to meet her eyes, leering instead at the staircase behind her. 

“Mm, he had to do something.” He rushed passed without giving her much time to respond. Keiji was positive if he gave her the opportunity, she’d pick his excuses apart until everything was on the table. She knew him too well. 

“Oh-- okay!” she sounded a little startled. 

After shutting the door, Keiji slid against it until his ass hit the floor. He dug his phone out, unable to hold off any longer. He ignored the missed calls in lieu of opening his texts instead.

**RECEIVED: Kou (1:35 PM)**

**keiji please come back**

**_Seen 3:50 PM_ **

Keiji scrolled past the several messages sent, stopping at the most recent.

**RECEIVED: Kou (3:47 PM)**

**can I come over so we can talk?**

**_Seen 3:50 PM_ **

**SENT: Kou (3:51 PM)**

**Don’t bother.**

**_Seen 3:51 PM_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, thank you so much for all the kudos, comments, hits, bookmarks, etc. i appreciate all the love <3 it makes me feel very validated lmao


	6. Inevitably Jealous.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And inevitably, Keiji crumbled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello!! just a few things to leave here as always:  
> 1\. this upcoming week is my finals, and I have this ungodly molecular bio exam on tuesday and then an organic chem one on wednesday-- but once I'm done, I will be back to writing as normal. it likely won't even affect my upload schedule that i've (vaguely) set.  
> 2\. also, kou is NOT trying to manipulate keiji here or vice versa. not what i'm going for!!! not that kinda toxic!!!  
> 3\. also, ok, i do not know how realistic the setting is in terms of like-- how much freedom japanese students have to go on and off campus, but i'm american and we have quite a bit-- so i'm ignoring this for the sake of the story.   
> 4\. this fic is certainly earning its m rating fast LMAO   
> 5\. thank u for all the love & support!  
> 6\. tumblr is bubble-tea-and-biodiversity

Two days.  _ Two days  _ (Well, almost two days) _.  _ It was the longest Keiji had gone without responding to Koutarou since the older boy had made the transition from elementary to middle school; both of them had taken the separation pretty hard. Even back then, that had been resolved with some tears and promises from their mothers that,  _ yes _ , Keiji would be following in a year. This wasn’t such an easy fix. 

Ironically, Keiji following Koutarou was the  _ cause  _ of this fight. 

_ Maybe I should’ve went to another school,  _ Keiji thought wryly. The thought was dismissed as soon as it crossed his mind. Keiji knew he was lying to himself-- he couldn’t have handled that. Even the rest of his  _ weekend  _ had been miserable without Koutarou. The issue wasn’t that they weren’t together; they of course couldn’t spend all their time together. The issue was the innate sense of  _ loss  _ Keiji felt.

His soulmate had an overwhelming presence, and the emptiness that filled his space even more so. Even Koutarou’s constant texting had immediately stopped after Keiji’s dismissal. The silence was somehow louder. As a (melodramatic) aching heart does, Keiji’s heart tried to fill its Koutarou-sized hole. 

His Sunday morning had been spent moping, curled up in bed and attempting to ignore the lingering smell of Koutarou’s cheap hair gel that wafted from his pillows with every shift. He had to convince himself it would be weird to sniff it. 

_ It’s been less than a day. Stop being a boob _ , Keiji scolded himself.  _ You both need space. _ His phone chimed where he had tossed it across the room the past night, unwilling to read anything from anyone other than his soulmate but reluctant to respond to him as well. 

Which brought Keiji to the dilemma that was  _ Monday _ morning.  _ Two days.  _ Though Koutarou may have given up texting, let it never be said that he was not persistent. 

“ _ Hi Auntie, um,”  _ Koutarou’s voice trailed through the hallway. “ _ Is Keiji coming to school today?”  _ Every cell in Keiji’s body screamed at him to peek around the kitchen wall, get even a  _ glimpse  _ of his soulmate that he had been depriving himself of. 

“Hi honey. He woke up a little late today,” His mother said, tone soft as always. “I’ll give him a ride today, we don’t want to make you late for first period.” Keiji blessed the heavens for his mother. The disappointment was palpable in Koutarou’s response, 

“ _ Oh… okay-- thank you. I guess I’ll see him at school…”  _

She bid him farewell before Keiji heard the click of a door and a beat of silence, then a call of, “He left, baby.” His shoulders sagged in relief. As he approached around the corner, Keiji was met with a withering look from his mother. Her brows were pulled in tight over squinting blue eyes, 

“So,” she started, “Are you gonna tell me why I just lied to Koutarou-kun?” She was the perfect image of a chastising parent, hips cocked against the wall in a lean and her foot tapping against the tile. He flushed, 

“I… uh… I really did just wake up late,” he offered blandly. Keiji cursed her ability to read him like a book; he knew his lie wouldn’t be enough to deceive her. She hummed, unconvinced, before taking a few steps toward him to twirl one of his dark curls around her finger. 

“Ah, yes, and  _ that’s  _ why you spent all yesterday holed up in your bed,” she gave the curl a gentle, yet firm tug. “And why I haven’t seen Koutarou since Friday.” He batted her hands away, nose wrinkling in irritation. 

“ _ No _ , Mom, nothing’s wrong,” Keiji huffed. He avoided her gaze, resisting the urge to tug at his fingers. Mounting anxiety began to scratch at his throat. “I need to go get ready,” he said dismissively, turning the corner to rush up the stairs. The sigh of his mother didn’t escape him.

\----------

That morning, Keiji avoided the cafeteria like the plague. The idea of sitting at their table with their teammates felt  _ wrong,  _ like the normalcy of it would throw him back into his routine with Koutarou-- which couldn’t happen. Despite Koutarou’s best attempts to talk to him, Keiji wasn’t ready to fall back into whatever…  _ pattern  _ they had developed, of Keiji getting his hopes up just to get them torn apart all over again. Guilt itched in the back of his mind, reminding him his soulmate had been left in the dark about all of this. 

In the spirit of honesty, Keiji  _ himself  _ didn’t know what he wanted from Koutarou to make this better. Because really,  _ what could?  _ Any apology, no matter how sincere, couldn’t change how Koutarou felt for Keiji. And the thought alone crumpled him every time. 

He was thankful for his late arrival, as he would’ve been able to avoid the situation altogether had it not been for Kuroo approaching him between classes. 

“Hey, ‘Kaashi-kun--” the blocker called out. Keiji tried to subtly speed up, but it was no use; Kuroo planted a hand in his curls and ruffled them, effectively slowing Keiji in the process. “Hey-- man--” he sounded a little out of breath, as if he had run across the hallway to catch him. Keiji shot him a sideways glance, flickering his eyes back when he’d been caught. 

“Where’ve you been all weekend?  _ Everyone’s  _ been tryna get ahold of you since the arcade,” he asked, voice nonchalant despite the question in his eyes. Keiji shook his head, trying to get Kuroo out of his hair  _ and  _ his space. 

“Hmm,” he hummed, keeping dark eyes focused ahead in search of something--  _ anything _ to save him from this conversation, “My stomach hurt and I was bored.” Kuroo raised a skeptical brow just as Keiji caught a glimpse of blond hair.  _ Bingo.  _

“Ashikaga-san,” Keiji had swerved toward the boy’s locker, a confused Kuroo close behind. Brown eyes widened, shifting between the two teammates. “Uh… yeah?” he said, lamely. Keiji rolled his eyes,

“Are you coming?” Ashikaga must’ve seen his desperation, nodding profusely and looking a little  _ too  _ eager at the invitation. “Yeah,” the blond slammed his locker shut. “Let’s go.” Kuroo held up his hands, shaking them a little in denial.

“Hold on, hold on--” he moved his hands to the front of either of their faces, halting them. “I thought  _ you-- _ ” his hand in front of Keiji curled into an accusing point, “--hated him!” he swirled a circle toward Ashikaga’s face with the other. Ashikaga’s lips curved into an exaggerated frown. 

“Circumstances change,” Keiji said at the same time as Ashikaga’s whine of, “Hey-- isn’t ‘hate’ kinda a strong word?” Kuroo’s hands faltered, sinking back down to his sides. Ashikaga made a wounded sound from the back of his throat. 

“C’mon, that’s-- oof, okay,” Keiji tugged at his arm, dragging him toward their class. “Bye, Kuroo!” the blond called back to the dazed third-year. Keiji could only be bothered to send a slight wave over his shoulder. 

“Damn-  _ jeesh,  _ you’re in a rush--” Despite his complaints, Ashikaga made no move to either slow Keiji down nor take his arm back. Keiji ignored him.

“Can I sit with you at lunch?” he interrupted. The sight of Ashikaga’s slackened jaw made a feeling of doubt creep along his thoughts, slowing him down a little. “I… just um, I don’t… I haven’t spoken to Kou since-- and I don’t…” Keiji stuttered, gaze downcast. Brown eyes flickered over his shoulder, widening a little, before turning back to Keiji with a curled lip. 

“Yeah, no worries.” 

\----------

Keiji saw glimpses of Koutarou throughout the morning: waiting by Keiji’s locker, wandering through the second-year hallway-- generally looking defeated wherever he went. Their eyes met a few times, causing Koutarou to perk up, only to wilt at the sight of Ashikaga next to him. Apparently, the blond’s personality was a Koutarou-repellant, which for once worked in Keiji’s favor. That is, until lunch. 

“So, Miki’s been fucking this girl for like, four months? I think? Whatever, doesn’t matter-- basically, they’d been sleeping together for  _ months  _ before she’d even…” The blond was recounting some tale about his soulmate and her girlfriend, but Keiji had maybe heard a third of it. He was trying to listen, really, but his mind was elsewhere.

The two were sitting on the roof, surprisingly alone. Keiji had been a little stunned at the realization this was the norm for Ashikaga, but brushed it aside when the other boy didn’t acknowledge it. It seemed Kuroo had been right about Ashikaga’s lack of friends-- which baffled Keiji.

As much as Keiji loathed to admit it, the blond was  _ fun.  _ Perhaps a little aggravating, but in a smartass way he couldn’t help but appreciate. In a lot of ways, he reminded Keiji of Kuroo, which warmed his heart toward the boy. 

_ Maybe he could be, like, my Kuroo,  _ Keiji considered, glancing over at the rambling blond. He’d always been jealous of his soulmate’s tight-knit-- for lack of better term--  _ bromance _ with Kuroo. Keiji had never really had anything like that. Even if Kuroo and Kenma were his friends as well, it was just…  _ different.  _ Kuroo and Koutarou  _ clicked  _ in a way that simultaneously lowered their IQs while also bringing out the best in them through their friendship. 

“Mm, Ashikaga-san?” he interrupted. The blond cocked his head. “Thanks for letting me sit with you. We should sit together more.” The boy beamed, shifting toward Keiji as he leaned on the hand closer to him. 

“Y’know, ‘Kaashi-kun--” 

“ _ Damn,  _ guys, we’ve been looking everywhere for you!” Kuroo’s loud voice rang through the otherwise quiet courtyard. Keiji startled as Kuroo threw his body in between them, forcing them to either side of the metal bench. Without looking up from his game, Kenma stepped directly onto the seat and gracefully took his place next to Ashikaga, curling his legs into a criss-cross. Although his eyes were still locked on Kuroo, Keiji’s heart sank at the new warmth seeping into his other side. He didn’t even have to turn to know who it was. 

A warm palm curled around his wrist, gently pulling him toward the warm breath fanning over his soulmark, “Can we please talk, Keiji?” his soulmate whispered in his ear. As if reacting instinctively, Keiji leaned into the warmth. It was like coming home, to a lit fireplace and cozy blankets; his skin  _ boiled  _ where they touched. 

Keiji followed the movements of Kuroo’s exaggerated gestures, unable to look into familiar golden eyes. It was irrefutable that his will would crumble at the sight of his soulmate. He knew his own weaknesses and unfortunately, Koutarou was one of them. 

A quavering sigh resonated from his left, a sound so unlike Koutarou. He didn’t think he could handle Koutarou crying. Keiji finally snapped his eyes to meet the other’s, concern for him overshadowing  _ any  _ argument. Dark bags hung under golden eyes, ones that were beginning to tear up. 

Keiji’s own eyes widened in horror. 

“Okay, let’s talk,” he whispered, hoping the others couldn’t hear. 

And inevitably, Keiji crumbled. 

\----------

Right as Keiji closed the door to the empty classroom behind him, tears and jumbled words burst from Koutarou in a waterfall, “I’msorryKeiji. I know I can be a lot and I get really moody and then I get mean and I treat everyone like shit and I know I got really aggro with Kuroo but I already talked to him about that and he was bitching at me and he’s not mad but--” he stopped, his body straining with wet gasps for air. “--but please, I’m sorry, I’m not gonna do it again--” A feeling of dread roiled in Keiji’s stomach as the realization dawned on him. 

_ He thinks I’m upset… about his mood swings?  _

They were unpleasant, definitely-- but certainly not the problem at hand. In some aspects, Keiji was relieved. If Koutarou thought he was upset about this, then he was none-the-wiser about the actual issue: Keiji’s unrelenting jealousy. After all, Keiji had  _ agreed  _ to this. Koutarou could talk to whoever he wanted, and Keiji was the fool waiting on the sidelines for him to return. 

On the other hand, agreement or not, Keiji  _ was  _ pissed. He was  _ pissed _ about the flirting with girls in their school,  _ pissed _ about whatever did or  _ didn’t  _ happen with the captain from the party, and Keiji was  _ pissed  _ about whoever this ‘Fujita-kun’ was-- and he was downright  _ livid  _ that this person shared a secret with Koutarou, something so private he couldn’t even share it with his  _ soulmate.  _ The divide that had once felt hypothetical between him and his soulmate was suddenly tangible, squeezing Keiji out of his life like an infection. 

Another competing reluctance butted its way to the forefront of Keiji’s thoughts. The captain was strong, both in will and in body, but that strength crumpled at the appearance of Koutarou’s own insecurities. Koutarou’s confidence was a flimsy thing, heavily reliant on the validation of those around him. The tears were less surprising considering there was no one Koutarou valued the opinion of more than Keiji.

The setter was caught between preserving his soulmate’s already fragile heart and acting on the irritation that prickled under his skin. Unintentionally, Koutarou made the decision for him. The older boy sucked his cheeks in through a shaky gasp,

“I just… please don’t… hate me,” he trailed off, desperation clinging to his words. “I don’t think I could handle it if you hated me.” Koutarou, who normally had the presence of a  _ giant  _ in a room of munchkins, looked horribly small with his hands wrung together and tucked low on his stomach. Keiji squeezed his eyes shut. 

_ Don’t you dare cry.  _

Their mothers liked to joke there had never been a pair of soulmates with a worse case of sympathy crying. This was evident from nearly the beginning, discovered by Koutarou’s father when watching the boys. All it had taken was a scraped shin and a few tears from Keiji to have Koutarou sobbing, clinging to the other teary-eyed toddler and nuzzling frizzy curls. A genuine,  _ bawling  _ Keiji was a rare sight, even as a child. There were two exceptions: the bouts of night terrors he had, and a sniveling Koutarou. 

Although it had toned down, there was still a physical  _ ache  _ Keiji felt at the sight of his soulmate’s tears. It was as if his body rejected the thought of him suffering alone. 

“I could never hate you, Kou,” Keiji said softly, heart clenching at the thought of Koutarou feeling anything other than adored. “ and I’m not… I’m not mad.” And honestly, he wasn’t mad, he was _tired._ Exhausted, really. 

Koutarou had broken his heart more times in two weeks than he had in their entire lives, and the boy didn’t even know it. His control felt like sand in an hourglass, slipping away bit by bit while he helplessly grasped at granules before he lost Koutarou entirely-- and if Keiji kept this up, he  _ would _ . Anything from Koutarou was better than nothing at all, and without clear boundaries between them, Keiji was losing sight of this. Koutarou would never be the one to draw these lines. He would do  _ anything  _ to please Keiji, even at the risk of making it harder for both of them. No, Keiji had to be the one to instigate the shift in their relationship. 

Keiji allowed Koutarou to wrap his arms around him in an aching embrace, basking in the warmth of Koutarou’s desperate affection. There was something unequivocally  _ powerful  _ in the way Koutarou loved him, the way he needed him even  _ platonically, _ that Keiji knew he would never find-- or  _ want  _ to find in another person. 

_ This is okay,  _ he tried to convince himself, inhaling to savor in the scent of Koutarou after days of deprivation,  _ You can love him from  _ [ **_afar_ ** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QKHXt0Whuhw) _.  _

_ \---------- _

For better or for worse, things were… different, after that. It seemed to Keiji that it had been a turning point in their relationship. Although the pair still spent all of their time together, something was very clearly  _ off _ . For the rest of the week, Keiji had done everything in his power to pull back from their relationship without alerting Koutarou.

It was near impossible to avoid physical affection completely with Koutarou (the boy was like an overpowered golden retriever) but Keiji found his ways around it. Keiji had stopped initiating any contact between the two of them, no matter how innocent, and he had taken to distracting the other when he tried to. To Koutarou’s dismay, Ashikaga was a key element of this plot. 

The blond made for a  _ fantastic  _ cockblock. He had already begun to burrow into Keiji like a tick, which only worsened with his encouragement. Lunch with the group had become a regular occurrence; this received mixed opinions. 

Kuroo was more animated than usual, seemingly overdoing it in an attempt to make Ashikaga laugh (which, really, was  _ not _ a difficult feat), and that simultaneously endeared and irritated Kenma, if the perpetual crease between his brows was anything to go by. Konoha was having a field day as well, deciding Ashikaga was a “fun guy” after watching him get a scowl out of Keiji no less than two minutes after his introduction. Koutarou was not nearly as eager about his presence, but kept his mouth shut. Anyone who knew him could tell there was no love lost between him and the blond though; Koutarou wasn’t exactly known for his subtlety. 

A bitter look wrinkled across his face whenever Ashikaga spoke. It didn’t matter whether he had been laughing or spacing out before-- the instant Ashikaga butted in, his mood curdled like rotten milk. During the more prolonged periods where the second-year held the table’s attention, Koutarou would glance over at Keiji, seemingly looking for their own conversation. Despite not giving a rat’s ass about what Ashikaga was saying, he carefully kept his eyes forward. What followed Koutarou’s realization that Keiji was a lost cause was a whole lot of grumbling. He’d dig out his phone and smash a few keys before slouching back in his chair with a pronounced pout. 

“No, no, but you don’t understand-- you guys would _love her_ , she’s literally perfect. She’s gonna remind you so much of ‘Kaashi.” That Thursday, Ashikaga had once again assumed control of the table in an attempt to convince them of all the reasons they _‘_ absolutely _needed_ ’ to meet his soulmate. Sugiyama Miki was a third-year and a solitary one at that. _None_ of the boys at the table knew her other than Konoha, despite two of them being the same grade as her. Koutarou had been in his own head for the last several minutes, but the topic seemingly caught his attention, eyes flickering over to Ashikaga. 

“You have a soulmate?” Koutarou asked, dumbfounded. “I didn’t know you had a girlfriend.” Keiji’s eyes widened a little, meeting Kuroo’s own gaping face across the table. Koutarou hadn’t directly addressed Ashikaga like…  _ ever.  _ At least, not since their first few introductions. Ashikaga turned to him, a bored look in his eyes as he slurped at his soba. 

“Hm? Oh, nah, it’s not like that-- we’re both gay. We’re platonic soulmates, like you and ‘Kaashi,” Ashikaga said, voice so nonchalant that had Keiji not known better, he would’ve thought it a mistake. But Keiji  _ did  _ know better, and so did Ashikaga about the nature of their relationship. Playing dumb, the blond went back to inhaling his food but the swaying of his head from side to side gave away his eagerness to Keiji. 

An instant hush fell over the table. The hustle and bustle of the lunchroom continued, completely ignorant to the table that had just went from one of the loudest to certainly the quietest. Kuroo dragged a hand down the side of his face, his visible eye giving Keiji a bewildered look before lifting his other hand to hide that one as well. Kenma had looked up from his game and was zeroed in on Ashikaga’s face, giving him an incredulous expression. Even Konoha was in a similar state of shock; he had been midbite when Ashikaga made the comment but stopped to stare, soup dribbling down the side of his gaping mouth. 

Keiji was seated next to his soulmate with Ashikaga sitting across him on the other side of the table. He had been staring at the blond before and now couldn’t bring his eyes over to Koutarou-- unsure of what the third-year’s reaction would be.

Would he get uncomfortable, brushing the comment off with an embarrassed remark? Or would he agree; would the comment suddenly light a bulb in Koutarou’s head, giving him the solution to all his troubles with his relationship with Keiji? Would it lead him to the realization that Koutarou could be with him, without being  _ with _ him? 

Undeniably, there would be some confusion. Not once in their lives had the boys  _ ever  _ been referred to as platonic soulmates; for an outsider, it wasn’t exactly a sensible conclusion to come to. Koutarou’s love was a loud one, clinging to Keiji in public and flaunting his mark at any given opportunity-- and it wasn’t like it was a common assumption for two soulmates to be platonic anyways.

_ No,  _ the only way Ashikaga could’ve come to that conclusion would’ve been if he had heard it. 

Keiji experienced a range of emotions in the several seconds between the statement and Koutarou’s reaction. Shock, humiliation, anger,  _ panic.  _ He couldn’t even begin to comprehend why Ashikaga would’ve brought that up. 

“I…” Keiji started, only letting out one quiet syllable before Koutarou interrupted him.

“What-- [**_what_**](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cQw2qIl838Q) _the_ [**_fuck_**](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9DogjUeDf58) _did you just say?”_ Koutarou’s voice was low in his throat, a more intimidating sound than his usual warm timbre. Keiji whipped his eyes to his soulmate, stunned, while Konoha let out an unmanly squeak at the sound that came out of Koutarou,

“Oh-- my god?” Konoha said, turning to bury his head in Kenma’s shoulder, ignoring the tufts of the boy’s ponytail that were getting in his mouth in favor of hiding. “I can’t watch this.” Before, Keiji couldn’t look at Koutarou-- now, he couldn’t look away. 

Koutarou’s face was shriveled in a piercing glower directed at Ashikaga. He was leaning forward in his seat toward Ashikaga, more attentive than he’d been the entire week at the table, even if it was a negative reaction. 

“What? What did I say?” Ashikaga asked, head tilted innocently to the side. He gestured at Keiji with his fork. “Could’ja translate for me, ‘Kaa-” 

“ _ Don’t  _ look at him,” Koutarou bristled. He stood, planting his hands on the table and leaning further into Ashikaga’s space in front of Keiji. “You’re talking to me.” 

“Oi, let’s all calm dow-” Kuroo started, only to be interrupted by a tug from Kenma, planting his ass back in the seat before he could get between the two. Keiji was still in shock, unable to look away from Koutarou. He hadn’t been sure what to expect, but it certainly wasn’t  _ this.  _

Ashikaga shot Koutarou an apathetic look under a raised brow, as if sizing him up. “What’s the issue here, Bokuto-kun?” If looks could kill, Ashikaga would’ve been dead in a ditch before this conversation had even begun. 

“Who the  _ fuck  _ told you we were platonic soulmates? Where did you hear that from?” Koutarou’s face was turning redder by the second, the veins in his arms bulging from his clenched fists. 

“Oh, y’know,” Ashikaga shrugged. Brown eyes flickered around the expressions of the table before settling on Keiji, a wicked smirk curling, “around.” 

Keiji was thankful for his years as a setter. He’d become great at analyzing people’s postures, anticipating their next move or play, even more so for his own team. So when Koutarou moved to lunge across the table, Keiji was there to stop him. He shot up, pushing his seat back a few inches in the process, and thrust an arm in front of Koutarou, his back turned to Ashikaga and his gaze locked with his soulmate’s.

“Kou,” Keiji fervently glanced between his eyes and his panting snarl, “Cool off.” Koutarou’s eyes dropped to Keiji’s, forehead creasing with the look of utter  _ hurt  _ on his face.

“Did you tell him that? That I’m your  _ platonic  _ soulmate?” he asked, quiet, but not enough so for it to go unheard by the rest of the table. Keiji was once again flabbergasted, mouth cracking open slightly. 

“I- no _ , of course  _ not,” Keiji insisted, but he may as well have been talking to a brick wall. Koutarou’s eyes were narrowing behind Keiji’s shoulder again, at who he assumed was Ashikaga. His shoulders tensed up again at whatever he saw, and this time Keiji made the move to press his outreached arm into his chest. 

“Koutarou, I said  _ cool off,”  _ Keiji repeated, his tone final this time. Koutarou gave him a look of disbelief. 

“I can’t believe you’re defending this asshole. Are you not  _ pissed  _ by what he just said?” Koutarou said, the words hissing through his teeth. 

“Hey, I didn’t mean any harm-” Ashikaga chuckled, the smug bastard, “Just the way you guys act, I would’ve thought there was no way in hell you were together like  _ that. _ ” Kenma cleared his throat.

“Mm, Suoh-kun, I think you should stop,” he said, matter-of-factly. Kuroo was next to him, watching the entire scene with eyes wide like saucers and even Konoha was peeping through the long strands of blond. 

“No, I think he should keep fuckin’ going,” Koutarou gave a short, sardonic laugh. “Tell me,  _ Ashikaga-kun,”  _ Venom dripped from the blond’s name, “How do we  _ act?”  _ Keiji closed his eyes and counted to ten, knowing he couldn’t trust the smartass behind him not to dump gasoline on the lit match that was Koutarou. 

“Pfft, I don’t know, tough guy,” his mocking words were laced with a tone of bitterness, “ _ friendly.”  _

_ God damn it. _

Although taller than both Keiji and Koutarou, Ashikaga had more of a swimmer’s body, broader shoulders with a narrow waist and long legs. He was not _nearly_ the size of Koutarou, who was a wall of muscle against Keiji’s arm. Keiji could feel Koutarou’s chest heaving against his palm, heart thudding like a hammer underneath it. Had Keiji not been a living shield, he was certain Ashikaga would’ve gotten his ass beat. Keiji didn’t understand how Ashikaga wasn’t feeling the mortal fear of god at that moment.

“Ashikaga,  _ shut the fuck up.”  _ Keiji snapped. He shot him a glare over his shoulder. At his words, the blond’s face immediately faltered, raising his hands up.

“My bad-- my bad,” he said, all traces of both humor and antagonism gone from his voice. “Didn’t mean to rile anyone up.”

Keiji felt a grasp around his wrist, shaking with the difficulty of being gentle despite its owner’s rage. He let himself be pulled, well aware that the safest place for Koutarou was  _ anywhere  _ away from this lunch table.

The air between them was tense during their walk across the school. Koutarou’s pace was brisk but Keiji kept up the best he could, unsure where they were going or how to deal with the situation. He was surprised to find Koutarou dragging him through the front doors and toward where Keiji assumed his car was parked. His suspicions were confirmed.

“Kou-- what--?” he breathed. Koutarou slid the door of his car open, the old hinges creaking in protest at the rough treatment. 

“Just, get in,” he said with his voice gruff. “Please,” he added, an afterthought. Keiji complied, albeit confused and concerned. 

No sooner than a few seconds after Keiji crawled in, Koutarou slipped in behind him, pressing him down onto the seat to lie on his back. 

“Kou… what’re you… we’re gonna be late--” He was cut off by a gasp when Koutarou tore his own shirt off before folding in over top of him. 

Oh.  _ Oh.  _ Okay. 

Koutarou didn’t bother with silly niceties--  _ such as kisses _ \-- instead choosing to immediately grind down into Keiji’s pelvis while mouthing at his mark. Frantic hands pawed at the hem of Keiji’s shirt in an attempt to move it without separating from his neck, but groaned in protest when Keiji pushed back to solve the problem himself. Keiji yanked the older boy back immediately after the removal of his shirt.

“Koutarou,” he breathed into the other’s mouth, lips brushing when the pair opened their mouths in twin moans at a particularly forceful grind. His soulmate wrapped his fingers in thick curls and slammed their mouths together, swallowing the sounds he elicited as he worked Keiji’s body like a fiddle. 

“Is this okay?” Koutarou whispered back against his cheek. At Keiji’s enthusiastic nod, he felt a wide smirk press against the skin. 

The two hadn’t even gotten their pants off, not yet willing for the loss of contact it required before Koutarou began to smear sloppy kisses down Keiji’s neck while his hands roved up and down Keiji’s sides, squeezing every once in a while. Keiji rewarded him with a low moan every time. Wet kisses turned to bruising bites and sucks, leaving what Keiji was  _ certain  _ were dark marks along his neck and down the line of his sternum. After making his way back up, he grasped Keiji’s jaw to stroke a gentle circle along his mouth and chin, eyes fixating on the way the swollen bottom lip sprang back when his thumb released. 

“No one’s gonna question whether or not we’re platonic when you walk back into that school,” Koutarou growled, voice no more than a rasp crawling its way up from his chest. A whine ripped its way out of Keiji’s throat and he bucked. Koutarou caught one of his thighs before it could lower again in order to wrap it around his back and slid against Keiji from a new position. His skin felt like it had been doused in gasoline, his arms and legs tingling in anticipation for the fire Koutarou was about to light. 

Dark eyes rolled back in his head at the feel of Koutarou latching onto his soulmark once again, this time electing to replace the faded mark from before. Koutarou groaned at the sound it evoked from Keiji. 

“You taste… so good,” he murmured, pressing softer kisses and kitten licks against the spot. “My sweet Keiji.” Keiji tucked his head into Koutarou’s neck, hiding ruddy cheeks from the compliment. “God, you’re so pretty, can’t even look at you without feeling like I’m gonna cum.” His last comment sounded significantly less romantic and more pained, as if it were an inconvenience to him.

Keiji snorted an ugly laugh, throwing his head back against the seat. Koutarou’s eyes were glittering when they met again.

“ _ God _ , and the way you sound-- even when you’re laughing like a donkey, you make me wanna wreck you.” 

Keiji couldn’t even find it in himself to be offended, not with the promise that had followed. 

\----------

Keiji returned for his fifth period with an untucked collar, a mix of satisfaction and unease, and an ungodly amount of hickeys littering his chest. Koutarou had thankfully kept them below his neckline, other than the giant one that blemished his soulmark. 

He refused to meet Ashikaga’s eyes as he took his seat, but he could feel the way they lingered on him. He heard a few clicks of his tongue before the feeling of a warm breath on his ear where Ashikaga was leaning over his desk to whisper, 

“And like a dog returns to its shit, Akaashi Keiji lets himself be swept back into the same old  [ **routine** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S3RcWxc5bsg) of fuck and forgive.” 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, thank u so so much for all the love, support, kudos, comments, bookmarks, hits, etc. literally ALL of it makes my day so much. if you ever wanna chat-- my tumblr is bubble-tea-and-biodiversity.


	7. An Inevitable Breaking Point.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even breaking Koutarou’s heart, he was a sight to behold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello hello hello friends
> 
> 1\. i'm sorry i was a little late on this one after saying my schedule wouldn't change too much. exams kicked my ASS and then i worked like 8 hr shifts all weekend, so i had like no time to write this until yesterday
> 
> 2\. also, we're coming to an end guys! probably only 1 or 2 more chapters, but I'm leaning towards 1. it's a bittersweet feeling for me, bc like, not only is this only my second fanfic EVER (when i was 12 i wrote some hetalia fanfiction on fanfiction.net LMAO) but this will be the first fic i've ever finished.
> 
> 3\. also ik ashikaga is a snarky ass and he comes in between bokuaka, but i s2g i love him ok. boy just seeing an opportunity and he's taking it lmao
> 
> 4\. ngl this hurt me to write 
> 
> 5\. also, thank you thank you THANK YOU for all the sweet comments. makes me so happy! <3

_ Boundaries.  _ Yes. Those were still important-- one round of fantastic sex in the parking lot didn’t change that. 

At least, Keiji was trying to convince himself of this. He had been repeating the mantra the entire day, even now, when it was really  _ not  _ the time. 

Komi dove past him, startling him back into reality. His hand slid beneath the ball, narrowly stopping the other team from scoring and earning a cheer from the stands. Panting, he shot Keiji a questioning look. 

The vice captain’s chest tightened, feeling a little ashamed. He could’ve  _ easily  _ gotten that ball and set it for Konoha-  _ should’ve.  _ Keiji gave him a short nod of reassurance. 

_ Not the time, Keiji. _ __

He directed his attention back to the ball whizzing back his way from the other team. Leaning back on his heels, he prepared for the set. 

\----------

To the surprise of no one, Fukurodani won. Not that the other team hadn’t played well, but that night, ‘well’ just wasn’t enough. Even before the game had begun, there had been an atmosphere coming from Fukurodani that  _ exuded  _ victory; Koutarou was practically strutting around like he owned the place. His boost of confidence inspired the rest of the team-- if their ace was in a good mood, luck was on their side. The only person who hadn’t been on his ‘A-game’ was Keiji. 

He knew none of them would say it, but he had been sloppy. Had his spikers not been compensating for his slightly misplaced sets, it could’ve cost them the game. His mind just wasn’t where it should’ve been. 

Blue met gold, and Koutarou’s eyes were nearly squinting with how big the beam he sent was. He was making his way right for Keiji.

_ Ah. Fuck.  _

Boundaries meant no more of Koutarou’s overly-affectionate-honestly-bordering-on-PDA customary hugs. These were normally a great opportunity to just  _ melt,  _ soak in the warmth and smell of his soulmate after a long-fought game and release the pent-up adrenaline. Not today. 

Koutarou reached him with both arms spread wide, ready to envelop him. The sight of Koutarou after winning a game really was a marvel for Keiji. His hair would always begin to fall out of its normal style, sweat weighing down the pieces and dangling them in his eyes, and his cheeks had an exhausted flush to them. Even in a jersey soaked through with sweat, he was gorgeous. 

_ Smack! _

Koutarou’s grin fell into an openmouthed frown. He glanced between Keiji and their hands, still connected. Keiji snapped his own back to his side.

“Did… you just…” 

“Good game, Kou,” Keiji interrupted. “You played well.” He hid his twitching fingers behind his back. 

_ Why. Why would you go for a high-five of all things?  _ Not only was it juvenile, but  _ god  _ it was not subtle. Koutarou was still frozen in shock, hand hanging in the air where Keiji left it. He slowly dragged it back, eyeing Keiji with a nervous expression. 

“Um… yeah. Thanks.” Koutarou shuffled his feet, the silence between them growing by the second. This was decidedly the most awkward thing that had ever happened to Keiji. 

“Hey! ‘Kaashi!” 

Never mind. 

Before he could turn completely, arms yanked him into a hug, burying his face in a chest that smelled like a familiar cheap cologne. Keiji was quick to shove his way out of the hug, eliciting a raucous laugh from the perpetrator. 

“Wow, I had  _ no  _ idea what was going on, but you guys looked cool as hell!” Ashikaga’s voice was so close it felt like it would burst his eardrum.

“God, you are such a  _ pest _ . Why are you literally everywhere?” He was kidding. Kind of. 

“Akaaaashi-kun,” he whined. “That’s not very nice. I was complimenting you!” Keiji snorted, but snuck an anxious glance behind him. All the previous excitement from their win was gone, leaving behind a downcast Koutarou. Although Fukurodani’s ace toying with the hem of his shirt, cheeks pulled tight in a disheartened frown, was not an unfamiliar sight; it was certainly odd after a win. 

“Is this about yesterday?” the blond pushed, “‘Cause I already said I was sorry.” He didn’t sound very apologetic. In fact, he looked quite smug at the mention. Keiji immediately went on guard,

“Yeah. To  _ me. _ ” The setter gestured to his soulmate with a nod over his shoulder. Ashikaga raised his eyebrows skeptically. 

“Doesn’t really look like he wants an apology,” The blond drawled, as if already over this conversation, “Besides, don’t you wanna go meet Miki? She doesn’t even like sports, but I dragged her here to meet you.” Keiji squinted in confusion, still hung up on the first part of his sentence. His eyes trailed to follow the blond’s line of sight.

Well, he wasn’t exactly wrong. Koutarou had taken over one of the lower sets of bleachers, legs spread in an unwelcoming stance and preventing others from sitting. His hung head low between his sagged shoulders, looking terribly crestfallen. Keiji ignored the way his spine tensed at the sight. 

Every bone in his body was screaming at him to go comfort the older boy: be a good vice captain, best friend,  _ soulmate.  _

He glanced back at his friend, “You said Miki was here?” Ashikaga’s lips stretched into a triumphant grin. 

\--------------------

There was no other word for it. Koutarou was  _ sulking _ . His eyes coursed after the pair he had left behind, Ashikaga tugging Keiji’s arm in an overtly familiar manner. The  _ nerve  _ of that jackass. Koutarou’s blood boiled at the proximity between the two, which seemed to be shrinking by the minute. 

They stopped abruptly in front of a pretty dark haired girl. Ashikaga’s hands wove around excitedly in what Koutarou assumed was an introduction and an attempt to make up for the introversion of the other two. The girl’s face was perfectly blank, but anyone with eyes could see the way she was sizing Keiji up. Ashikaga dropped an arm around Keiji’s shoulder and pulled him into another presumptuous side-hug, hand narrowly missing Keiji’s soulmark. Koutarou scoffed. There was no way Keiji was going to allow that. 

Dark eyes slid to the side, considering Ashikaga before returning to the girl and replying. Ah. Maybe he  _ was  _ going to allow that. Koutarou’s gut clenched, unable to handle the sight of Keiji and the way his bottom lip curved around his words, tongue swiping between to wet them before continuing. Even breaking Koutarou’s heart, he was a sight to  [ **behold** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8uD6s-X3590) . 

The girl’s lips twitched up into a tiny smile. She reached a fist up to Ashikaga, who made a big scene of sighing in exasperation before crouching slightly for her to reach his forehead, bumping her fist against it and grinding it in something reminiscent of a noogie. She then reached the same hand out in front of her to Keiji, who responded in turn to shake hers. Apparently, Keiji had made a good impression. 

The wrinkles in the captain’s forehead deepened. He was nearly positive the girl in front of the pair was Sugiyama Miki, Ashikaga’s soulmate. The same girl who had just eyed Keiji up as if inspecting her best friend’s new boyfriend. Koutarou felt sick. 

_ Sex.  _ It was supposed to be  _ sex.  _ It was supposed to be sex, but here was Keiji, with another boy wrapped around his finger and ready to fall to his knees and crawl if he so beckoned-- one who wasn’t so subtle about it.

The blond hung off Keiji’s shoulder like a proud trophy wife, lips curled into a smug smile. He was a little taller than Keiji (and Koutarou himself, much to his chagrin), so the resulting effect looked more like he was enveloping the shorter boy than a friendly squeeze. It was borderline  _ cuddling. _

Koutarou wondered briefly if Ashikaga could smell Keiji’s hair with their close proximity--  _ he  _ always could. It always smelled like vanilla with a hint of citrus, some fancy shampoo for his curls. Although he was loath to admit it, Keiji was a little high maintenance about his hair products. Koutarou loved to tease him about it, if not to see the way his whole body flushed when embarrassed. 

An annoying clip of Ashikaga in his place instead played in Koutarou’s mind -- smelling the warm scent, teasing Keiji about it,  _ tugging  _ on those meticulously soft curls… discovering how far the rosy tint to his skin went…

His stomach churned.  Maybe he wasn’t even fit for this “just sex” stuff. 

Even if he was, _it was supposed to be_ _sex_ , but instead had turned into Keiji pushing Koutarou farther and farther away. As if he were waiting for the opportunity. 

God. A  _ high-five.  _ The last thing he would’ve expected after a win like that. 

Tears pricked at the back of Koutarou’s eyes, warning him. He scrubbed a hand along his face to hide the evidence before anyone noticed. He was still in a gym full of people- people who had already seen enough. 

He moved to stand, but a hand dropped onto his hair, not caring enough about the sweaty strands to pull away and instead stroking them forward. They scratched along his scalp as if petting a cat’s spine. 

He glanced up, ready to tell the intruder to ‘ _ fuck off’ _ before snapping his mouth shut. The fluorescence of the gym lights had blinded him for a moment, but when his eyes adjusted he was met with familiar dark eyes and curls. 

“Hi, sweetheart,” Mai said. She raised a sneaker to nudge his leg aside, making room for herself without asking in a blunt, though certainly not impolite, way. He obliged, the metal creaking with every scoot until there was enough space for her to sit. 

“Hi, Auntie,” he mumbled before clearing his throat and trying again, “ _ Hi,  _ Auntie!” She frowned, unimpressed. 

“You’re looking awfully down for someone who just led his team to yet  _ another  _ victory,” she said, the question clear in her tone. He winced. 

_ Ah. Nothing gets past these Akaashis.  _

Before he could respond, his cheeks were squished, grabbed by a tiny hand in a hold he could’ve  _ easily  _ escaped. Mai turned his head side to side, inspecting for any signs of injury. 

“Your mother says you’ve been acting strange, did something happen Kou-chan?” she squinted, focusing on a point on his cheek. “What’s this? Are you hurt?” she wiped a finger along the spot. He shook his head in her grasp, cheeks darkening the longer she spoke. 

“No, no, Auntie, I’m fine. I’m pretty sure that’s just a pimple, but glad to know it looks natural.” She dropped his face, looking a little sheepish herself.

“Ah, my bad, sweetheart. It’s really not that noticeable… I’m just… a little paranoid. Your mother and I are concerned about you.” Her eyebrows knit together, glancing at the floor before returning to his eyes. The deep blue was a comforting sight, one he basked in. She looked an awful lot like Keiji, and come to think of it-- he couldn’t remember the last time his soulmate had looked him in the eyes outside of sex. 

_ Please. Please stop thinking of sex with her son while talking to a woman who helped raise you.  _

He huffed a little, feeling put off. 

“I don’t know why  _ she’s  _ concerned. I’m not acting weird.  _ She’s  _ the one acting weird. Staying out late, keeping secrets, going on dat...” his throat tightened, unwilling to finish the sentence. He scrubbed his eyes again, face furrowing into a scowl.

She gripped his shoulder gently, the action accompanied by a soft hum that rose from the back of her throat. Pulling his head to her own shoulder, she let him rest against it. The pair garnered a few looks from the groups left in the gym, but were left to their own devices. Moody Koutarou wasn’t a particularly new or unexpected phenomenon. 

“You know, Koutarou…” she tapped her pointer and middle fingers along his scalp unconsciously, reminding Koutarou of the way her son was always fiddling with his hands. “I’m always telling Keiji he should talk to me more.” Koutarou bit back a groan-- he knew where this was going. 

“Other than a soulmate, I don’t think there’s anyone in the whole world who loves someone more than their mother,” she pecked a kiss to his forehead. “Even their  _ soulmate’s  _ mother-- who loves them very much too, might I add. And I’m willing to bet there’s nothing that hurts your mother more than hurting you.” Koutarou buried his face in the soft cardigan wrapped around her shoulder. He felt the strings that had tightened around his heart slacken a little.. “And we give pretty good advice, yeah?” He mumbled into her sweater a muffled “yeah”. 

“And now, as a mother of my  _ own  _ boy who won’t talk to me…” he counted her soft breaths as she hesitated. “I won’t intrude too much, but… I can tell something’s not right. Will you at least tell me if he’s okay?” Mai gently pushed Koutarou back by his shoulders, but kept them in her grasp. Her eyes met his, a firm, though not unkind look in them. 

He glanced over to Keiji, who was still deep in a conversation with Sugiyama. Koutarou couldn’t help but note what a lovely sight they were, sunlight peeking in from the windows and shining off two heads full of dark hair. A faint smile was lingering on the setter’s face. 

Things had been weird between the two of them. Even before Ashikaga had worked his way into their life like the little vermin he was-- something had felt  _ off.  _ They went nearly sixteen years with minimal fighting, only to be caught in several arguments these past few weeks alone. Before the past weekend, the longest Keiji had gone without talking to Koutarou was less than a day. 

Despite the distress that had been tumbling around in Koutarou’s mind that entire week, Keiji didn’t really seem all that… fazed. Sure, Koutarou could tell he was uncomfortable. No matter how flat Keiji kept his expression to the rest of the world, his soulmate could read him like a book. There was a subtle tension in his shoulders, and a shift in his mood that Koutarou had picked up on as of late. He was hiding something, definitely; but he didn’t seem all that heartbroken about the newfound distance in their relationship. Koutarou hadn’t allowed himself to speculate too long on the ‘why’. Every time he did, he left himself panicked. 

_ You know why he’s acting weird,  _ a voice that sounded an awful lot like Kuroo chastised in his head.  _ Talk about backfiring.  _

_ All this  _ [ **_work_ ** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tqNAMgFesSY) _ for nothing,  _ he told himself.  _ You couldn’t even do this right, could you, Koutarou?  _

Koutarou glanced back at an expectant Mai, who was starting to look concerned by his prolonged silence. 

“Yeah, Auntie. I think he’ll be okay.” 

\--------------------

“Where’s the ice queen?” Kuroo joked as he plopped in the center of Koutarou’s bed, accidentally knocking a pillow off and blocking Kenma’s line of sight toward the TV. The little blond grumbled and threw it back, nailing a regretful Kuroo in the face.

“ _ Pff  _ don’t call him that, y’know he hates it,” Koutarou said. A muffled chime sounded from  _ somewhere  _ in the bed. He began to dig around for his phone, throwing the mess of blankets every which way. “‘Sides, I thought you guys were like friends now or some…” He lost his train of thought, dedicating his full attention to the text he had just received. 

**RECEIVED: Fujita-kun (5:49 PM)**

**Any regrets yet?**

**_Seen 5:51 PM_ **

Koutarou scowled. 

**SENT TO: Fujita-kun (5:52 PM)**

**i dont need u scolding me :l**

**_Not yet seen._ **

“Who’re you makin’ that face at, Bo?” Unsurprisingly, Kuroo didn’t wait for a response; the duo had zero qualms about personal space  _ or _ privacy. He perched his head on Koutarou’s shoulder, golden eyes skimming the messages before pulling back and scrunching his face in confusion.

“Who’s ‘Fujita-kun’?” he asked, “And what’re they talking about? Regrets about what?” Koutarou sighed, slamming his face into a pillow. 

_ Guess he already knows enough.  _

“It’s that captain from that team we played a few weeks back,” Koutarou said, uninterested. A strange look dawned on Kuroo’s face. He shot a look at the back of Kenma’s head before returning to Koutarou when the other didn’t react.

“Which team?” his voice sounded strained. 

“The one with the libero for a captain?” Kenma finally chimed in, setting his controller on the floor beside him to turn around. He was sitting on the floor in front of the foot of the bed, leaving only a glimpse of feline eyes and a bobbing ponytail visible as he peeked over. The game on screen had been paused mid-fight. 

“Yeah, yeah, that one. I met him at the party, he’s actually pretty cool. He’s been giving me advice about--” Kuroo shoved at his shoulder, cutting him off. He hadn’t pushed that hard, but the shock of the action jolted Koutarou. He raised his hands, baffled.

“Wha--?”

“ _ Dude,”  _ Kuroo looked like a rotten apple, face red and wrinkled in anger. “ _ Seriously?”  _ Koutarou blanched. 

“I don’t--” his eyes flickered between the soulmates, stunned to see matching expressions of ferocity. Even  _ Kenma? _ “Damn, guys, what’s your damage?”

“My ‘ _ damage’,”  _ Kuroo emphasized the word by making quotations with his fingers, “is that this is the same guy who was panting all over you at the party. Dude was  _ so  _ horny for you, Bo, it was gross.” The anger on his face fell a bit, a different emotion taking over. Pity?

“No…” Koutarou said weakly. 

“Yes,” Kenma said, head bobbing an enthusiastic nod in contrast to his stoic expression. 

“It was so weird, bro. Made me uncomfortable, made Ken uncomfortable, made ‘Ka…” Kuroo paused, “... made everyone real uncomfortable.” 

…

Well.

Now Koutarou was the uncomfortable one. 

“It’s not…  _ noooo _ ,” he groaned, slamming his palms onto his cheeks and covering his eyes. Warmth radiated from his face behind his hands. “It’s not like that! We just talk sometimes. We’re friends!” He peeked at Kuroo from his fingers. The other boy’s body had loosened, some of the rigidity instead moving to his expression. He didn’t look impressed. 

“Hm,” Kuroo grunted, unconvinced. 

“If it’s not like that,” Kenma started, “then why are you so red?” Koutarou didn’t appreciate his accusatory tone. 

“It’s not,” he repeated, his voice steely. “He gives me advice about Keiji.” He took his hands off his face, brow furrowing as he glanced between the two. “He knows how much I love him.” Something in his words must’ve struck a chord with Kuroo, as the rest of his tension eased out of him, leaving him to sag like a boiled noodle on Koutarou’s pillows. 

“Well... you haven’t been acting much like it lately,” Kenma said, turning back to his game and unpausing before Koutarou had a chance to respond-- not that he really could. His jaw hung open, utterly stunned by the brass balls and set of vocal chords Kenma had developed in the last two minutes. 

“Ken,” Kuroo scolded. He gave Koutarou a sheepish shrug. “I mean… he’s not wrong though.” That was the last thing Koutarou was expecting him to say. 

“What?” he croaked. “What are you even talking about? He’s my  _ soulmate.  _ I  _ adore  _ him.” The implication that Keiji was anything less than  _ cherished  _ by Koutarou was absurd to him. 

Since the day they met, Koutarou had been the lowly worshipper falling at the feet of the temple of Keiji’s life. Koutarou’s head was a storm, one full of competing emotions that he constantly worked to suppress. He spent his entire life working on calming himself down for just a  _ minute _ , even  _ one _ , and preventing himself from drowning in the depths of his own turmoil. Keiji changed that. He couldn’t cure it, certainly-- no one could-- but being around Keiji brought him peace. 

Keiji was  _ gentle  _ without being weak. He was all soft smiles and quiet, but fond, encouragement. And when Koutarou needed him to be, he was his rock. Had he not loved him so much, it would’ve been borderline  _ humiliating  _ at just how clear it was to everyone in their lives that Koutarou would follow him to the ends of the earth. Even at three years old, he had been a goner for those dark curls and blue eyes. 

“Stop saying that,” Kenma snapped. A loud buzz rang out from the TV and the words ‘GAME OVER’ blinked across the screen, an image of what was assumed to be Kenma’s dead avatar splattered into pieces across the screen. The room was silent for a minute, before,

“Stop saying what, Kenma?” Koutarou asked, halfway between caution and bewilderment. The blond had a foul frown marring his face. 

“Stop using ‘he’s my soulmate’ as some excuse or like,” he waved his hand around, irritated at having to explain. Koutarou had never seen him this animated. “Like some weird explanation for why you love him. You don’t love him because he’s your soulmate. You love him because he’s  _ Keiji.”  _ Kenma’s gaze was fixated on the words on the screen, but his attention was clearly on the captain. “He’s not some  _ default  _ in your life, Koutarou. Just because he’s your soulmate doesn’t mean he’s always going to be there.” He shot Koutarou a final glare. “ _ Especially  _ not when you’re taking him for granted.” 

The words hit Koutarou in the chest like a ton of bricks, shattering the barrier he had spent the last few weeks expanding around his heart. He gnawed on his cheek, urging himself not to cry. He had cried too much lately. 

“I don’t take him for granted,” he said quietly. “He’s the love of my life. I don’t understand why you’re saying this.” He took a shaky breath, his body desperately trying to ignore his pleas to hold back tears. “Everything I’ve always done… I only…” Koutarou squeezed his eyes shut as the first drop spilled over. 

“ _ Ah fuck,”  _ Kuroo whispered. Koutarou heard a shuffling, and then felt the comforting embrace of his best friend tucking him into his shoulder. 

“ _He can’t_ [**_leave_**](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JcBFicOvhos) _me,”_ Koutarou finally sobbed. “I don’t want him to leave me.” 

“Bo, I’ve told you this so many times,” Kuroo’s voice wavered a little. “‘Kaashi’s not gonna leave you, man. He loves you so much, it’d be embarrassing if you guys weren’t so cute.” Despite Kuroo’s reassuring words, Koutarou was inconsolable. He shook his head rapidly, accidentally smearing a line of snot across Kuroo’s sweatshirt. 

“He’s gonna--” There was not nearly enough air in his lungs to speak at that moment. “He’s gonna--” he gasped again, too upset. “There’s so many--” 

A smaller hand gripped his shoulder, gently tugging and pulling him out of Kuroo’s. He was met with Kenma, who at least had the decency to look a little guilty. 

“Koutarou,” he said, softer than before. “You’re my friend,” 

_ Well, yeah,  _ his dumbass brain added. 

“And I care about you,” 

_ Thanks, I really needed the clarification after what just happened.  _

“But you’re being stupid.” 

Ah. Good ol’ sweet, blunt, Kenma. 

Kuroo groaned, but Kenma held a hand up in his direction to silence him, eyes still locked on Koutarou’s. 

“ _You. Are. Pushing. Keiji. Away.”_ Koutarou opened his mouth to speak, but Kenma wasn’t done. “And I _know_ you don’t understand why or how, but this is why you need to talk to _him._ Not us. No one can tell you what he’s feeling better than himself.” Koutarou slouched. The gasping for breath had stopped, his lungs catching up in the moments Kenma had been speaking. He gave Koutarou a quick tap on the cheek with his palm before walking back to his spot on the floor. 

The trio sat in silence, all of them needing a minute to digest what had just happened. Despite Kenma’s harsh words, the atmosphere wasn’t tense. They were all well aware that the blond was right. Koutarou stood, ready to make good on his advice. He grabbed a jacket off the chair and made his way to the door. 

“Oh, and Koutarou?” Kenma called one last time. He looked over his shoulder to see the smaller boy had once again paused his game and was once again staring at him with those blank, round eyes. 

“You should be careful. Suoh-kun is everything you’re not.” 

\--------------------

Koutarou had never [**run**](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OTDuVc2Wt18) faster in his life-- not that it was that far of a run. 

_ One. _

_ Two. _

_ Three.  _

He counted the houses in his head, skidding to a halt in front of the familiar little home.The main door was propped open, leaving only a screen barrier to protect from the autumn breeze. He could hear the sounds of clanking dishes and the hum of a sweet song inside.

“Auntie?” he called in. The clanking stopped, and Mai called out, 

“Hi honey! Come right in, I think Keiji’s in the back with a friend.” His heart sank.

_ No.  _

He made his way to the sliding door that led to the backyard, dread and regret replacing his previous urgency.

_ Please tell me it’s not--  _

He slid the door open. 

_ You have got to be kidding me.  _

When Koutarou was ten and Keiji was nine, they had asked Koutarou’s father to help them with a project. Mai’s 30th birthday had been approaching and the pair wanted to do something nice for her. Her complaints were never verbalized, but the boys could see the way she ached after she’d come home from a shift, how the joints in her knees would crack and she’d limp at night. They decided they would build her a bench. 

The issue was-- Koutarou’s dad was not a handyman, he was a doctor. Smart, but not well-versed in that area. The bench the three managed to pull together ended up looking a little worse-for-wear. It was crooked and tiny, with barely enough room to fit both boys and Mai on it at once. Once they’d gotten older and Koutarou bulkier, they could only make it work if Keiji was plastered in Koutarou’s lap. 

Despite this, Mai  _ loved  _ that bench. When she’d first seen it, she had understandably been a little stunned, but as the realization occurred to her, she burst into tears. Koutarou and Keiji had gotten their fair share of kisses and snuggles that night. 

So no, Mai would never get rid of that bench, even if it  _ was _ too small-- too small to fit two grown adults without at least a little bit of cuddling. 

Ashikaga had his right arm around the back of the rickety bench, lounging back with lanky legs spread out in a V-shape on the ground. He had a book in his left hand while the other was playing with a loose curl. Keiji’s head leaned back against the arm as he snored. His entire body was curled onto the bench underneath him, causing him to lean towards Ashikaga. 

“Oh, Bokuto-kun, how goes it, man?” the blond said, casually. He leaned over to set the book on the floor beside the bench, but was careful not to jostle Keiji too much. Keiji still groaned a little, brows furrowing before smoothing again. 

“I need to talk to Keiji,” Koutarou said, struggling to keep his voice calm. Ashikaga raised an eyebrow, before glancing to the side where Keiji snored against the joint that connected his upper and lower arm.

“Yeah? He’s sleeping.” He waved a hand flippantly. “Just like, leave him a note or somethin’.” Steam practically blew out of Koutarou’s ears. The fist that was hanging by his side curled in anticipation. 

“Why do you  _ do that _ ?” Koutarou tried to keep his voice calm. 

_ You can’t let him know how much he gets to you.  _

“Do what--” Ashikaga started, but Koutarou cut him off.

“Oh, give it up,  _ jackass _ ,” he snarled. Despite his best attempts, frustration was oozing from his words. “You know  _ exactly  _ what you’re doing. Hanging around Keiji, doing  _ everything  _ you can to piss me off.” The mocking glint was quick to leave Ashikaga’s eyes. It was replaced by a stony expression. He gazed at Koutarou, but kept silent, resulting in what felt like the world’s worst staring contest. Koutarou lost when he flickered back to his sleeping soulmate. 

Keiji’s mouth hung open, a tiny bit of drool making its way down his chin. He was conked out, clearly exhausted, but at the same time-- he looked  _ vulnerable.  _ Keiji was never more at ease than when sleeping. Koutarou felt white-hot rage at the thought that  _ Ashikaga Suoh  _ of  _ all people  _ got to see him like this. 

“What’s going on with you two?” Koutarou finally asked, meeting the blond’s eyes once again.

“Honestly?” he said. He began to twirl the curl on his finger again. “Nothing yet, Bokuto.” 

At first, relief spilled down his body, as if dumped from a bucket. Right before it could pool at the bottom, his brain caught up. 

“ _ Yet?”  _ he hissed. Ashikaga looked tired, like this was the last conversation he wanted to be having. 

“ _ Yet.  _ If he wants anything more, of course. I really like him,” Ashikaga’s eyes swept over Keiji, a fond smile subconsciously raising his cheeks. “Like,  _ a lot. _ ” 

“I don’t think you get what’s happening here, Ashikaga. You and Sugiyama-san might be platonic, but  _ we, _ ” he gestured between himself and Keiji. “Are not.” Ashikaga scowled at him. 

“No, Bokuto, I don’t think  _ you  _ ‘get what’s happening here’,” he slowly removed his arm from behind Keiji’s head, placing it against the back of Mai’s bench. He stood up, approaching Koutarou. “You have this funny, smart--” he pointed back at Keiji, “ _ beautiful,  _ boyfriend, and you treat him like shit and expect that no one else will treat him better.” He finally stopped a few feet away from Koutarou and shrugged, “And you don’t deserve him. No one who makes him cry like that deserves him.” His voice got quieter at the end. 

Koutarou scoffed. “What, and you do?” he said, ice in his voice. Ashikaga shrugged.

“No, probably not,” the blond said, raising his eyes to meet Koutarou’s, “But definitely more than you do.” 

That was it for Koutarou. 

He grabbed Ashikaga by his collar, swung his fist back and---

_ Crack!  _

The two fought where they stood, grabbing at each other’s collars and swinging. Ashikaga may have had the height advantage, but Koutarou was  _ strong _ . He was an athlete, for god’s sake. Despite that, both of them were getting punches in. 

“Hey-- hey--  _ what the fuck?”  _ Koutarou heard a voice, but was too blinded by rage to see anything other than the blond bastard in front of him, all sleazy eyes and crooked smiles. After getting a good grip on his collar, Koutarou threw the blond back, slamming him into the side of the house. He raised his fist for another swing before dark curls entered his line of sight. 

Keiji stood in front of him, grasping his wrist. Any traces of sleep were gone from his face. If anything, he looked bewildered. 

“Kou… what… what’s…” his voice was rough having just woken up from a nap. 

“Boys, what’s--  _ oh my god,  _ what happened out here? What did--” Mai stood in the entrance of the slider, looking just as stunned as her son. Her jaw dropped at the sight of blood trickling out of Ashikaga’s nose.

“Oh, hi, Akaashi-san,” Ashikaga said, voice cheery as if he hadn’t just nearly gotten his ass handed to him. He gave her a small wave. She shook her head, grasping at her temple. 

“Oh… no… okay, Ashikaga-kun, sweetheart, come here, let’s get you cleaned up. Keiji, can you--” 

“Yeah, Mom,” Keiji said in an inscrutable tone. “I’ll use the first aid kit in the bathroom upstairs.” His expressionless stare was fixated on Koutarou, having not looked at Ashikaga once since he stepped between them. 

As soon as his mother took Ashikaga inside, the latter nursing his now gushing nose, Keiji turned his back on Koutarou and walked briskly toward the aforementioned bathroom. Unsure of what else to do, the older boy followed. 

The unusual quiet of their walk stirred nerves along Koutarou’s spine. Silence between them had never been this loud. 

Keiji sat Koutarou on the edge of the tub before kneeling to dig in the cupboard below the sink. After finding what he was looking for, he took a seat beside his soulmate and began to squeeze rubbing alcohol on the cotton pads. He never once met Koutarou’s eyes. 

“Keiji…” 

“Don’t.” Koutarou winced. Keiji rarely used this voice, and certainly  _ never  _ on Koutarou. It was almost exclusively reserved for people he didn’t like. 

“Keiji, baby…” 

“ _ I said ‘don’t’!”  _ Keiji snapped. “I don’t--” He shook his head, raising a palm to his temple to give Koutarou an incredulous look. 

“I don’t know what you  _ want  _ from me, Koutarou!” His words sounded shaky, as if torn out of his throat so fast he wasn’t given enough breath to produce them. 

“What? Keiji, I don’t want…” 

“I know you think he’s annoying, okay, I get it. I did at first too. But he’s  _ my friend  _ and I actually  _ like him.  _ He’s one of my first friends that  _ I  _ made on my own!” Keiji said, desperately. “Do you want me to just be lonely? Trailing after you the rest of my life while you’re surrounded by all these people?” 

“ _ No,  _ Keiji!” Koutarou said, voice rising. “ _ Of course  _ I don’t want that!” 

“Does it  _ bother  _ you that I finally have friends other than you?” Keiji asked, bitter.

“No, it bothers me that he’s  _ drooling over you. _ ” The sentence came out in a shout. A cynical laugh burst out of Keiji. 

“ _ Are you kidding me?”  _ The level of his voice dropped back down, low and simmering. “Are you  _ actually  _ fucking kidding me, Koutarou?” 

“Have you  _ seen  _ the way he looks at you? Like he wants to  _ eat  _ you? And how he hangs off of you like--”

“I don’t care! I don’t care, Koutarou. And you shouldn’t either. Didn’t you  _ want that? _ ” Keiji hissed. “Didn’t you  _ want  _ us to sleep with other people?” 

“This isn’t what I agreed to, Keiji. We agreed to  _ sex.  _ There weren’t supposed to be feelings involved.” Koutarou’s words were losing their edge, becoming more anguished by the minute. Keiji didn’t care. 

“I get what this is about.” Keiji let out another sardonic chuckle. “You want to be able to flirt and dance with and  _ fuck  _ whoever you want--” he gnawed on the inside of his cheek and looked up, a sign he was holding back tears. “But you want me to still be sitting here like a dog waiting for you to come back so I can make you feel good about yourself.” 

Koutarou’s eyes widened. He was losing control of this situation  _ fast _ and he didn’t know how to get it back. 

“Wait, Keiji, no-- that’s not--”

“I’m done, Koutarou.” Every particle of air in the room froze and time stopped. The only sound Koutarou could hear other than their breaths was the sound of his own heart thundering in his chest. 

“What?” he choked out.

Keiji looked at him, tears beginning to pool over and spill down his cheeks.

“I said I’m done, Koutarou. We’re going to both be silent while I clean you up, and then we’re done. We’re over. I’m not doing this anymore.” Keiji looked sick at his own words. Koutarou agreed. 

“Is that what you want?” he whispered. Keiji looked at him from underneath wet lashes, broken. 

“Yes. That’s what I want.” Koutarou hesitated, before--

“Okay.” 

And so they did. Even with tears pouring down his face, Keiji meticulously cleaned Koutarou’s wounds. He didn’t even flinch. The sting from the alcohol felt like nothing to him. His heart had crawled out of his throat, leaving nothing but an emptiness behind. 

As awkward as it was, Koutarou found himself wishing this would never end. Because the minute it did, so too would their relationship. Keiji wanted nothing to do with him. 

Unfortunately for him, he was cursed with a soulmate who not only was good at  _ everything  _ he did, but efficient as well. Keiji finished up putting bandaids on the worse marks, and began to tuck the first aid items back into the kit. He still hadn’t looked at Koutarou. Koutarou sat in silence, just staring at him and taking in the sight of him as if it were the last time.

It was silly, really. He knew he would see him again. They were neighbors, teammates, captain and vice captain _ …soulmates. _ There was no avoiding each other. 

As Koutarou made his way for the door, he cleared his throat, 

“This is probably for the best,” he said. Keiji squeezed his eyes at the statement. “We were going to break up anyway. It was [**inevitable**](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wGF7PswOENQ).” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm so sorry njsfisdifi
> 
> also, as always, thank you guys so so much for all the kudos, comments, bookmarks, hits, etc. etc. I appreciate it so much, really. ik i say this a ton, but like, it really means a lot to me and makes me so happy. i go back and read comments all the time when i'm feeling a little sad or overwhelmed or need some motivation. thank you, i appreciate you all! <3


	8. An Inevitable Conversation.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I don’t… I don’t want to talk about him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi, im a liar who said they would upload early and then uploaded like 3 days late. 
> 
> 1\. i had some killer writer's block. i think my brain just turned into mush lmao.  
> 2\. but last night i finally got some inspiration and cranked the rest of this chapter out.  
> 3\. there's a song i link, i think it's the last one or the second to last one, but it's called If By Chance by Ruth B. A commenter called @Sxftchae recommended this like second chapter and i was like "omg yes", so i've been waiting to use this one. Thank u so much! <3  
> 4\. hope u enjoy ;)  
> 5\. also haha i lied, ALMOST the last chapter. i had too much more to conclude here. one or two more, now i promise lmao

Tender fingers carded through his curls, stroking the shorter ones away from his face; he buried his face into the pillow beside him. The silence between them was thundering. 

Mai’s touch was fragile, ready for Keiji to shatter at any moment. She was already there when he had woken up that morning with her fingers lost in knotted curls. For a moment, Keiji had relished in the peace, before the weight of the world came crashing on his shoulders once again. Neither of them had moved in hours. 

“Keij, honey.” Her soft words dropped like a bomb and splintered the quiet that had settled. “You’ve barely touched your food these last few days. Can I make you something?” His stomach heaved at the thought. He gave his head a slight shake and burrowed deeper into the pillow. Her hand paused on the back of his scalp.

“Do you…” she hesitated for a few moments before continuing, her hand following suit, “do you want to talk about it?” The uncertainty in her voice was strange for him. Nothing between the two of them had ever felt stilted, not the way it had the past weekend. His mother had always been his biggest support but lately it’d felt like she was blocked by a wall of glass, unsure of whether or not to take a sledgehammer to it. He shifted his head, pressing one cheek against the pillow and exposing the other to meet pools of melancholic blue, 

“What’s there to talk about?” he croaked. His throat was sore from neglect, having barely spoken along with his adamant refusal to drink anything leaving it parched and dehydrated. His mother’s face crumpled further. 

He felt dramatic. He  _ was  _ dramatic. 

_ You broke up with him,  _ an irksome little voice reminded him. 

“I don’t really understand what happened, baby,” she said, forlorn as if she had been the one dumped, “I never would’ve thought--” 

“Please, Mom.” He sounded pitiful, even to himself. “Please stop.” She clenched her jaw shut. Her eyes were swirling with some combination of pity and desperation. His heart ached for them both.    


Two days post breakup and Keiji couldn’t shake the feeling that his life was [**crumbling**](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C9LPQmkao8c) around him. 

\--------------------

Unfortunately for Keiji, the rest of society was still functional and had  _ expectations _ of him. The world was spinning away on its axis, ignorant to the fact that he’d broken up with his own days ago. He had responsibilities not only as a son, but as a vice captain as well, and he’d be damned if he didn’t follow through on all of them. Monday was spent sulking in bed, but he made his return the following morning with his emotions veiled behind an impassive mask and his chin held high. 

Koutarou’s absence in his life had been abrupt, leaving Keiji little time for adjustment to a life without him. Despite this, Keiji did his best to adapt; after all, there was no going back. No more mornings wrapped up with Koutarou, clumsy fingers smoothing along spines and curling in each other's hair-- or sleepless nights reserved for gossamer kisses and traded whispers. Those things were reserved for lovers.  _ Romantic  _ soulmates. 

At this point, Keiji wasn’t even sure if he could confidently call Koutarou a friend. Their fight had been cruel, harsher than anything he’d ever said to his soulmate in the past. Koutarou’s heart was as fragile as an eggshell and he’d entrusted it to Keiji, who had just crushed it in his palm like it meant nothing. The lack of contact from Koutarou was expected, to say the least. 

Although Keiji was (trying to be) resilient, his heart was clearly not on the same page. There was an immeasurable ache left behind in the wake of Koutarou. It crept through his lungs and swirled around in the deepest crevices of his brain, a constant reminder that something was missing. His soulmark plagued him with persistent alternation between itching and burning. He wondered vaguely whether it was a punishment from himself or pain spilling over from his soulmate’s end. Keiji would never be ready to give up Koutarou, but his body wasn’t even willing to try. His hand subconsciously crawled toward his throat, trading his normal fidgets for scratching.

“Hey, you might want to lay off a little,” the voice beside him said, “That’s starting to look kinda raw, ‘Kaashi.” Kuroo had set his trap on the locker next to Keiji’s. He’d seen him waiting there as soon as he’d enter the school, legs unusually rigid with a nervous twitch to golden eyes. Keiji said nothing, but tried to discreetly move his hand away. School hadn’t even begun and Keiji already felt trapped. 

Kuroo must’ve seen through Keiji’s mask, perceptive to the way Keiji moved like a skittish animal, the slight veer to his shoulders indicative of his retreat. He moved toward the younger boy, hand reaching out, before pulling back hesitantly, “Akaashi-- please, can I just say something before you leave?” His mouth was flat, eyes looking a little desperate as they swept across his face. Keiji frowned.

“Right here? Now?” he asked. His voice wavered, despite himself. Kuroo gave a short nod. Keiji was wholly unprepared for the interaction that was about to go down. 

Kuroo would pat him on the back, his smile a mix of pity and condescension, along with insistence that, “ _ No, it’s not you, you’re a good guy, ‘Kaashi.”  _ He’d ruffle his hair, maybe even  _ actually  _ feel a little sad about it. “ _ But Bo’s my best friend.”  _ Keiji wondered whether or not he’d get the “bros before hoes” excuse. 

Keiji wasn’t ready to lose his newfound friendship with Kuroo, especially so soon after he’d lost his soulmate. He’d found himself growing quite fond of Kuroo these past few weeks (though he’d never admit it). But at the end of the day, with breakups came tough choices-- and who would  _ ever _ choose Keiji over Koutarou? 

He steeled his eyes, raising his chin as he gazed into Kuroo’s golden ones. 

“Well?” he said. He prayed his dismissive attitude was convincing. 

_ Better to bite the bullet now and get it over with. _

Kuroo scrunched his nose, eyes averting from Keiji’s to focus on a spot behind him. Even towering over most of the other students, he looked small. 

“The breakup--” Keiji winced. “It doesn’t mean we broke up too.” 

_ Um,  _ Keiji thought.

“Um,” Kuroo voiced for him. “That’s not what I meant.” Keiji raised a brow. 

“I just mean-- you know I care about you, right?” he stuttered. Kuroo  _ stuttered.  _ “That sounds so-- god, gross, what I  _ mean,”  _ the taller boy straightened his back, a determined look in his eyes as he met Keiji’s once again. “Is that you’re my friend-- dating Bokuto or not.” Relief sank through him, clawing away at the insecurities to settle in alongside the ache that had made its home there. “And I don’t want to lose you. Either of you. Neither does Ken, he’s just being a pussy and won’t say it.” 

_ Why did I ever doubt you?  _ Keiji smiled to himself as Kuroo rambled on, the first to grace his face in days. 

“--and like, okay, it’s gonna be weird at first because we never really hangout without Bo, but like  _ imagine the possibilities, _ ” Kuroo had either noticed the way Keiji’s face softened, or was beginning to get a little too caught up in his rant, cheeks growing tight with how big his smile had grown. Keiji couldn’t tell. “We can watch those scary movies you and Ken like now.” A laugh loosened its way out of Keiji’s chest, crawling out of his throat before he could stop it. Kuroo’s smile broadened. “Bo could never handle them.” 

“You hate those movies too, Kuroo.” Keiji couldn’t hide the affection in his voice if he tried. Kuroo shrugged. “You’re a scaredy-cat.” 

“Yeah, but you and Kenma like ‘em so…”

His friends weren’t a cure for the pain, but they sure made for a good bandaid. 

\----------

Filling the space left behind by Koutarou was not an easy feat. There was an unfamiliar silence that lingered, quite the contrast to his soulmate’s noisy presence. Without him there, Keiji found himself digging his nails even deeper to the only comforts he had left; his friends. Specifically, the stupid kind that made Keiji want to simaltaneously punch them and hug them. 

If Keiji had thought Ashikaga was clingy before, he was in for a  _ rude  _ awakening. For every inch Keiji gave, the blond took a mile.

“‘Kaashi.” Keiji continued picking at his food. He hadn’t had much of an appetite these days. “‘Kaashi,” Ashikaga repeated. Keiji grunted a reply, attention elsewhere. 

The two had snagged a table for themselves in the back of the cafeteria, packed next to a group of snickering girls-- girls Keiji had heard gossiping for the past twenty minutes. His back was turned to them, but his mind conjured up an image of clucking hens. 

“ _ You heard about Bokuto-san, right?”  _ One girl said, clearly loud enough for anyone within five feet to hear. A few of the others giggled. “ _ Him and that second-year broke up!”  _ Keiji clenched his fist. 

“ _ What? Him and Akaashi-san?”  _ Another girl sputtered. “ _ I thought-- aren’t they soulmates?”  _ She at least had the decency to sound surprised. 

“ _ Yeah, but like… you’ve seen him, right? He’s way out of his league.”  _ His stomach flipped.

It was silly, really. Who cared what some snotty underclassmen thought about him? 

_ Even they know Koutarou was too good for you.  _

Keiji crossed his fingers and hoped Ashikaga wasn’t as tuned into their conversation as he was. 

_ “That’s a little harsh, I’m sure Bokuto-san’s a sweet guy.”  _ The nicer girl defended. Keiji decided he liked her. 

_ “He must be. Why else would Akaashi-san want to be with someone like him? Soulmates or not… isn’t he kind of… off?”  _ One of the mouthier girls from before chimed in.

_ Oh. What?  _ His previous shame curdled into something fouler quickly. 

“‘Kaashi, buddy,” Ashikaga said, a touch louder this time. Keiji finally turned to him, armed with a half-hearted apology 

“Sorry, Ashika-”

“Don’t apologize, I know you’ve got a lot on your mind,” he said gently. Ashikaga reached a hand up to cup the nape of his neck, fingers skimming along the sides, in what Keiji had begun to recognize as an attempt at comfort. From someone else, it would seem too intimate. Had Keiji not seen Ashikaga do the same for Miki several times, maybe it  _ would’ve.  _

“ _ Told you he was the one to dump Bokuto-san. Didn’t take him long to move on.”  _

Keiji curved his body around his chair, shooting the girls a glare that could curdle milk, the action causing Ashikaga’s hand to slip off his neck. 

“With all due respect, I think you should focus a little more on yourselves and less on spreading gossip,” Keiji said, voice calm, eyes anything but. Four sets of cheeks lit up in humiliation. Ignoring their scrambled apologies, Keiji turned back around, meeting an incredulous pair of brown eyes. He cleared his throat. 

“I guess it makes sense you’d still feel a little… defensive,” Ashikaga murmured. “For him.” Keiji’s shoulders stiffened. 

Even by Friday lunch, the two had yet to discuss the fight that had occurred over the weekend. Keiji figured it was a moot point; Koutarou had left, and there wasn’t any point in pushing Ashikaga away as well. Ashikaga didn’t seem to agree.

“They’re right, you know,” the blond drawled. “You were out of--” 

“Drop it, Ashikaga-san.” Ashikaga clamped his mouth shut, but his stare was skeptical, probing. “I don’t… I don’t want to talk about  _ him. _ ” He gave a curl near Keiji’s forehead a gentle tug, smoothing it back into place afterward with a knuckle. 

“Okay, ‘Kaashi,” he said. The pair was quick to transition to a new topic. 

As the school day neared its end and Keiji’s mounting anxiety reached its peak, he couldn’t help the sense of dread he felt at the thought of practice. What had once been his escape now felt like impending danger on the horizon. 

God. 

He did not want to go.

“Are you sure you’re okay, ‘Kaash? You were kind of out of it last period.” Ashikaga was leering over his shoulder, cheeks nearly brushing. Keiji’s eyes flickered to their teacher.

_ Still conked out.  _

The shoulder Ashikaga was resting on sagged in relief-- thankful they hadn’t been caught-- accidentally causing him to lean further into the blond. Ashikaga must’ve mistook this as encouragement on Keiji’s behalf. A second later, he dropped his arms around Keiji’s front and plopped his chin on a head of curls.

_ This… is a lot.  _ Keiji was still getting used to this new surplus of affection he had been receiving. Other than Koutarou and his mother, he’d never had someone touch him so  _ warmly.  _ Most people figured he wouldn’t want it-- and they were right, for the most part. Keiji  _ didn’t  _ want some stranger wrapped around him.

He briefly thought back to Koutarou’s words from their fight.

_ “Have you seen the way he looks at you? Like he wants to eat you? And how he hangs off of you like--”  _ Keiji ignored the tinge of discomfort he felt at the memory.

_ But he’s not a stranger. He’s your friend. Koutarou just can’t handle feeling like you have other people besides him.  _

His mark itched at the reminder of his soulmate, as if crying out for him to just get this fight over with.  _ Fix  _ their relationship, or at least their friendship. Apologize, say he was being silly and just  _ let it go.  _ Koutarou would never take him back, no, Keiji knew him too well, and after a blow like that to his ego-- it’d be too much for his pride. But maybe the setter could salvage their friendship. Maybe he didn’t need to lose Koutarou all together. 

_ But you don’t want that. You don’t want to be his  _ **_friend_ ** _ ,  _ he told himself.

_ What if I want whatever he’ll give me?  _ The question had kept resurfacing in his mind. 

Keiji dismissed the thought. He wasn’t some sad little stray desperate to be taken home, willing to crawl back to Koutarou and beg. He needed to move on from their relationship-- that was over. Done. Zilch. In time, maybe they could work on repairing their lives together as  _ friends.  _ But first, Keiji needed space and time away; that started with a good distraction. And who was more distracting than Ashikaga?

The boy had been awfully attentive throughout this mess. Keiji was positive he wasn’t exactly a piece of cake to deal with, low-spirited and quieter than normal; certainly not the person Ashikaga had sought out. Their friendship was founded on the absolute absurdity of their back-and-forth, something Keiji just hadn’t been able to partake in lately. 

And yet. 

Ashikaga stuck around. 

Appreciation and--  _ god forbid--  _ fondness for the other boy bloomed in his chest. 

_ I don’t need him to be like “my Kuroo”, I already have a Kuroo,  _ he thought to himself.  _ He can be my Ashikaga.  _ Normally, Ashikaga grabbed and prodded at Keiji while he just begrudgingly took it, but he found himself leaning back into the embrace for the first time. He would never say it out loud, but Keiji was grateful to have him as a friend. 

Although the action was subtle, apparently not enough. A pointy chin nuzzled into his hair. The pair had garnered quite a bit of attention at this point, but Keiji ignored it. He figured he could humor the blond a little longer. 

“Awww, ‘Kaashi’s feeling snuggly.” The smug words sounded over his head. A few of the girls beside him murmured in shock. 

_ And  _ he ruined it. 

Mortified, Keiji knocked his head against the blond’s chin, throwing him back a little. He moaned in pain. Dismissing the stunned expressions of those around them, Keiji ruffled his curls, fluffing them back into place and hiding the evidence. Ashikaga’s face scrunched in mock annoyance, lips wrinkled into a duck-like pout. The bell rang before he could begin mouthing off. 

“Mm. Let’s go, Ashikaga-san.” Keiji didn’t bother waiting. He heard rustling paper as Ashikaga tried to stuff his backpack and scurry after before he could get too far. 

“Shit, slow down. Why’re you always walkin’ so fast? I thought you didn’t even wanna go.” Despite his bitching, Ashikaga trudged close behind . It was their final period, and although Keiji wasn’t exactly rushing to get to practice, he sure as hell wasn’t going to be late either. Luckily, they didn’t have to walk very far. Their class was located close to the exit of the second-year wing, leading straight to the courtyard with the gym building. He voiced such. 

“I mean,  _ yeah,  _ I know you  _ have  _ to go. Just don’t want you to…” the blond stopped dead in his tracks, looking a little stunned. Brown eyes quickly narrowed at something ahead before side-eyeing Keiji, gauging his reaction.

_ What?  _ Keiji wrinkled his nose, turning to see what was ahead.

He wished he hadn’t. 

A vaguely familiar girl was standing beside the gym doors, pitying expression adorning her soft face. Her arm was stretched out in front of her to rub a hand up and down the bicep beside her. Keiji wasn’t close enough to hear, but he really didn’t need to. It was obvious what was happening. 

Although it wasn’t the first time Keiji had seen his soulmate since their breakup, it was the first time he had really  _ looked  _ at him and to put it frank-- Koutarou looked like shit. He had apparently opted out of gelling his hair into his signature style, leaving it to fall flat in front of his eyes. And oh,  _ his eyes.  _ They were the worst part. Bags swelled a purplish-hue under them, giving him a tired look Keiji hadn’t seen since his parent’s divorce. The usual excited glint was missing and what was left behind was just empty pools of gold. He was scratching furiously at the mark on his right palm.

A deep, bitter part of Keiji reveled in the sight, the little devil on his shoulder pointing and screaming,  _ “See? He misses you just as bad.”  _ The rest of him just felt sick. The sight of Koutarou looking so broken was nearly enough to make him give in, do  _ anything  _ to take the hurt away from his soulmate. 

He couldn’t do this.

“Ko-” he nearly called out, but halted at the sight of motion from the girl. She reached a small hand up, nudging Koutarou’s left hand away and grasping his open palm. Her fingers grazed the swirling sunburst. Keiji stiffened at the shock of pain he felt in his matching one. Mistake or not, the damage was done. 

[ **Anger** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=676hNIhKO2M) roiled in the pit of his stomach. It didn’t  _ matter  _ if he was used to it. It didn’t  _ matter  _ that Koutarou had always been willy-nilly about his soulmark, constantly brushing up against others. Whether or not Koutarou was just ignorant or uncaring of the discomfort Keiji had grown accustomed to, it was bullshit. He was sick of the--the constant  _ dismissal  _ he received from Koutarou. 

He wasn’t some  _ toy.  _ He had feelings.

Keiji gave the girl another long look, curious of who would have the absolute  _ audacity.  _ He gazed at the brown bangs that fell into matching eyes, the side of her neck revealed by the hair swept into a ponytail. His eyes trailed down her body, curious of what Koutarou saw in her. If he saw  _ anything  _ in her. Although pretty, she was fairly unextraordinary. Had it not been for the swish of a familiar purple skirt, Keiji would’ve never recognized her. 

Keiji closed his eyes, heaving a sigh.

_ The underclassmen from a few weeks back.  _

Koutarou just had to add insult to injury, didn’t he?

[ **_Fine_ ** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ts--MxmAFkQ) _ ,  _ Keiji thought to himself, grasping at Ashikaga’s hand, earning a surprised yelp.  _ See how you like it.  _

It was petty.  _ Really  _ petty. Keiji knew better than to kick a man when he was down. Despite this, he followed through with his plan, yanking Ashikaga’s palm to press against his own soulmark, red with irritation. At the twitch of Ashikaga’s hand, Keiji cupped his own around it to hold him there. 

He felt a burst of satisfaction at the sight of Koutarou jolting, the shock causing him to rip his palm away from the short brunette. Koutarou skimmed a few fingers along the soulmark, brows wrinkling in confusion. 

As if sensing his presence, the captain began glancing around until his eyes finally settled on the two second-years. His eyes widened. Gold trailed up and down Keiji, taking in the sight of him like he was a feast to a starving man. Right as he opened his mouth, his stare latched onto where their hands were joined, pressed against Keiji’s neck. Ashikaga chose that moment to swipe a thumb along his mark. Koutarou followed the movement. Keiji shivered, but maintained his haughty glare. 

_ Hurts, doesn’t it?  _

He began to question his decision at the look of utter misery that crossed his soulmate’s face. Misery wasn’t the word-- he looked  _ devastated.  _ His eyes were scrunched, brows furrowing in an expression that looked close to tears. The underclassmen’s looked something akin to a mix of panic and discomfort, her eyes sweeping back and forth between the two soulmates . 

Keiji wrenched Ashikaga’s hand away from his neck, but held his wrist in his grasp.

“A...kaashi?” Ashikaga stuttered. He looked just as shocked as Koutarou and the girl. His mouth was gaping slightly, pupils dilated. 

“Come on. We’re leaving.” He dragged the blond, who stumbled eagerly behind him.

“But-- don’t you have-- prac-?” 

“I’m skipping.” Despite the way his body begged him to, Keiji didn’t spare his soulmate another glance. 

\--------------------

The two began their walk toward Keiji’s house. Neither of them had spoken since the interaction. Ashikaga still seemed to be in shock, while Keiji was lost in his own head.

_ That was terrible. Why would you do that to him? What’s wrong with you?  _ he scolded himself.

_ So what? It didn’t even mean the same thing to him, you  _ **_know_ ** _ that. He deserved it. He’s just being possessive for no reason,  _ another part of him argued. 

_ Don’t you  _ **_want_ ** _ him to feel possessive over you? _

_ Not like that. I just  _ [**_want_** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kVPog7EuqCo) _ him to want me.  _

Keiji shook himself out of his thoughts. Guess he wasn’t ready to come crawling back after all. 

As the two boys approached Keiji’s house, Keiji noted the absence of Koutarou’s car in the driveway. Keiji wondered vaguely whether he had decided to go to practice, or if he was still clinging to the brunette from before, finding comfort in any old pretty face. 

_ Fuck him. And her.  _

“I’m pissed,” Keiji finally blurted.

“Uhm,” Ashikaga said. “No shit, dude.” Keiji scowled.

“No. Like, really pissed.” 

“ _ No shit, dude.”  _ He waited for Keiji to slam open the door to his home before continuing, following close behind. “You’ve had this dirty ass glare for the last like, twenty minutes. I’d be nervous if you weren’t so short.”

“I’m nearly 183 centimeters, Ashikaga. That’s not short.”

“Okay, but you’ve got those curls too. I don’t get how people think you’re so scary, you look too soft. Like a  _ wussy _ , a  _ pretty boy, _ ” Ashikaga teased. 

Keiji swatted at him, but was smiling despite himself. 

“ _ Asshole.  _ Stop making me laugh, I want to be mad.” 

“Okay. Then be mad-- let’s talk about it.” Keiji’s smile fell. As he made his way upstairs to his room, he considered the offer. Keiji took a seat on his desk while Ashikaga made himself at home right on his bed, head propped against the pillows with his arms reaching behind them. 

“You really want to talk about it?” he said, the anxiety from before back. This was out of his comfort zone, once again. Vulnerability was… gross. It was  _ weird  _ and  _ violating  _ and the thought of it made his stomach throb, adamantly against the idea. Ashikaga dropped the smirk, offering a blank look instead. Keiji liked that. He didn’t want  _ pity.  _

“Yeah.” The air between them was silent, until,

“Sometimes,” Keiji started. “Sometimes Koutarou looks at me, like…” he trailed off.

“Like?” the other boy prompted.

“Like I’m-- it’s like he’s overflowing with how much he loves me.” Once Keiji got talking, he couldn’t stop. “And then other days, it’s like I’m  _ nothing.  _ Not even worth his time.” Keiji stood up from his seat.

“But I’m not--” his hands were shaking. “I’m not  _ fucking disposable.”  _ He began to pace around the room. “I’m his  _ soulmate.  _ Why does he not love me?” the words felt like sandpaper scraping along his throat. “Is something wrong with me?” Ashikaga’s brow furrowed, mouth opening to answer the rhetorical question. Keiji didn’t let him.

“And why the hell does he get to be with other people? Why does he get to talk to--” Keiji plopped on the bed next to Ashikaga, the force of the movement making him bounce. “ _ Flirt with--”  _ he yanked his hand through knotted curls, frustrated. “ _ Fuck  _ whoever he wants?” He laughed, the sound terribly close to a sneer. “He doesn’t want me, but then he says doesn’t want anyone else to have me either.” Ashikaga finally interrupted.

“What?” the blond asked. the crease in between his brows had deepened. Keiji glanced over, still panting from his little tirade. 

“What?” he echoed back. Ashikaga turned to face Keiji head on. 

“What do you mean, ‘he doesn’t want anyone else to have you’?” he repeated. “When did he say that?” Keiji squinted.

“I- what? Why does that--” his voice cracked, weakened from the dehydration which was worsened with his rant. “He brought it up when we broke up. He didn’t--” he scratched his forehead, absentmindedly. “I dunno. I guess he felt threatened by  _ you  _ or something.” Keiji was starting to feel a little embarrassed. “Said he didn’t like that we had ‘feelings’ involved.” He formed air quotes around the word ‘feelings’. 

_ Oh god. He’s going to think I said something weird, isn’t he? I’m not a freak I swear- _

“Are there?” Ashikaga asked, face carefully blank.

“Are there what?” Keiji was starting to get annoyed. The blond had begun to talk in riddles. 

“ _ Are  _ there feelings, Akaashi?” Keiji blanched. What did that even  _ mean?  _

“Well, yes, obviously. We’re frie-” his words were cut off by the feel of warm lips pressed against his. Keiji’s brain instantly shut down.

_ What. _

_ The. _

_ Fuck. _

He wasn’t… a  _ bad  _ kisser or anything. But again--

_ What the fuck.  _

Keiji jolted a little, stunned, but before he could speak Ashikaga leaned back in, pressing several soft pecks against his lips. His kisses were tender,  _ longing.  _ When he finally pulled back, his eyes were lit up. An adoring smile was on his face. 

“‘Kaashi, I gotta tell ya, I was so nervous it was just me,” he said, chuckling. “I didn’t wanna say anything because you had just broken up with Bokuto, but like, it didn’t matter, man. I would’ve waited as long as you needed me to.” His left hand was buried in black locks, sweeping sweet strokes across a strong cheekbone. His other hand was pressed right against Keiji’s soulmark, which he could feel pulsing underneath it. “I  _ really, really  _ like you.” 

Keiji gaped at him.

**_What the fuck?_ ** As the silence grew on, anxiety began to make its way across Ashikaga’s face. Keiji could see the way he gnawed on the inside of his cheek. 

“‘Kaashi?” he said, quietly. Keiji was still speechless.

“... Keiji?” Keiji snapped his eyes shut, wincing. 

“Ashikaga, I… um,” he stuttered. “I don’t…” The blond looked more concerned by the minute. 

“Uhm… it’s not like that…” Ashikaga recoiled as if struck. He nearly tumbled off the side of the bed, but caught himself before he could, still choosing to scramble away. His phone dropped from his pocket in the chaos. 

“ _ Oh  _ god, I’m so sorry, I misunderstood, I don’t know what I was thinking--  _ fuck!”  _ he frantically snatched his phone off the floor.

“Wait, Ashikaga-- please, it’s okay, just--” Keiji stood up too, reaching out. The blond flinched. Dread swirled in Keiji at the sight; he had never seen him this distraught. 

“I gotta go. I’ll see you at school on Monday. I’m  [ **sorry** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O_JRm6TjFsY) , ‘Kaashi.” And like that, he hurtled out of his room. Keiji heard the sound of him descending the stairs before the slam of a door. 

The boy dragged a hand down his face, still in utter disbelief of what had just happened. He heard the sound of smaller feet racing up the stairs.

“Honey? Was that Ashikaga-kun? Is he okay?” his mother panted in his doorway, apparently having passed Ashikaga on the way up. 

Keiji stared at his mom, tears pooling in his eyes. She gasped.

“Mama,” he  [ **sobbed** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5m2XqQQ7jrE) . 

\----------

The two found themselves in a position they’d become well acquainted with as of late: curled up in Keiji’s bed. Mai buried her nose in his curls, sniffling quietly. The sympathy tears were immediate; as soon as she saw her baby crying, she was a goner. As he told her everything, start to finish, the tears got worse.

“Keiji, why didn’t you tell me?” she murmured after the two of them had settled down. Keiji’s face was tucked into her neck, inhaling the comforting smell of his mother’s perfume. After all this time, she still used the same one from when he was young. “You never have to suffer alone, sweetheart.” Keiji shook his head.

“I didn’t want to talk about it, Mom,” he said quietly. “I know how much you love Kou.” She pulled back, grasping his cheeks between her hands. Her eyes were stern.

“I may love Koutarou, but you are my  _ baby.  _ I don’t know what’s gotten into him, but he can’t be doing this to you.” Keiji closed his eyes as another tear trickled out. She wiped it up with her thumb. “You two need to talk, Keiji. I’ve seen the way that boy looks at you, and we’re missing something here.” Irritated, Keiji shook his head once again.

“I don’t want to talk to him anymore, Mom,” his voice shrank, “it hurts.” He let out another shaky sob. “It hurts so bad.” She tucked his head back into her neck, fingers tangling in dark curls that matched her own. 

“Okay, baby. Just think about it, will you do that for me?”

Keiji stayed silent. She sighed and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“Everything will come full circle, sweetheart. Ashikaga just needs some space, and you just need some closure with Kou-- whatever that is.” 

“Okay,” he whispered.

\----------

Keiji tossed and turned all night, considering what his mother had said.

_ Am I missing something? Is there more to this? _

By Saturday morning, Keiji made his decision.

**SENT: Kou (8:23 AM)**

**If you could come over tomorrow for a bit, that would be great. I have some sweaters and things I should probably return.**

**_Seen 8:24 AM_ **

  
Koutarou  [ **didn’t** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X3hlspxCmfo) respond. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am literally overwhelmed by how sweet you all are and how much support this has gotten. i'm really bad about getting in my head and thinking my writing is shit, and then it makes me not want to write at all bc i feel bad. but like you guys are so nice and make me feel so much better about it. i appreciate all of the sweet comments and encouraging words, literally thank u so much. it makes me feel so much more confident in my writing and it makes me so excited to write.
> 
> thank u so much again for all the kudos, bookmarks, hits, comments, etc. etc. I appreciate it so much <3 :) it makes me so happy to know people are enjoying my fic and are having as much fun reading it as I am writing it.


	9. An Inevitable Broken Heart.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Did his soulmate mean that little to him? If he could just brush this off, their love, why couldn’t Koutarou?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: i'm gonna write everyday of break omg i cant wait to upload  
> also me: *panics bc i'm afraid of not writing the finale good enough so i refuse to touch it until my break is 2 days from being over*
> 
> hi i'm so sorry LMAO i love u thank u. 
> 
> if it makes it any better, this is like DOUBLE the size of my normal chapters and i edited it so much to try to make it perfect.
> 
> alsoooo, if you wanna talk, my tumblr is bubble-tea-and-biodiversity <3

Koutarou didn’t sleep well at night. He never did, really. That is, not without Keiji. There were a lot of things in Koutarou’s life that his soulmate made better; night time was just one of them. 

Both of the boys had struggled to fall asleep at night prior to their introduction: Keiji with his night terrors and Koutarou with his unrelenting bouts of insomnia.

Sango had tried everything, from lullabies to night-lights, even to low doses of melatonin. It was no use. Even at a young age, Koutarou’s brain was  _ too much.  _ He liked to think of it like a bike-powered generator, the constant spinning producing more and more energy until there was too much stored up. The issue was, his bike never stopped cycling. Koutarou just  _ couldn’t  _ sit still-- not even to sleep. 

Years and years of sharing a bed left Koutarou well-acquainted with his soulmate’s own dilemma. It wasn’t uncommon for him to wake up shaking, fat tears pouring down rosy cheeks. His eyes would be unfocused and panicked, as if not quite awake yet. Like clockwork, he’d curl into Koutarou for comfort-- who’d be a fool to turn him down. A few drowsy kisses and tender minutes of doting worked like a charm; Keiji would almost always conk right out. 

As much as it concerned Koutarou, Keiji was always assuring him otherwise.

“ _ It’s really not a big deal, Kou. I don’t even remember it most mornings anyways,”  _ he’d insist. “ _ They’re not nearly as bad as they were when I was young.”  _ It didn’t do much to soothe his worries, but Koutarou trusted Keiji. There was nothing they kept from each other; so if Keiji said they weren’t bad, they weren’t bad. 

After a month or so of knowing each other, their mothers discovered the solution: sleepovers. Whether it was some strange soulmate phenomenon or simply just the comfort of having their best friend close was irrelevant. Case in point, the quickest way to get the two  [**tucked** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SDuwmU1a1kY) in bed was next to the other one. 

The sleepovers became a routine: pick a house and ask a mom. As the two began to grow and innocent hugs turned into curious touches, new grounds rules were set. None of the three parents were willing to separate the two, but it couldn’t hurt to leave the door open at night. Ah, well. They both got great at swallowing moans. 

So of course, when Koutarou returned home after  _ that day,  _ Sango should’ve known something was wrong. 

Koutarou was borderline catatonic, the shock still preventing the reality of what had just happened to trickle through his brain as he trudged his way home. Time seemed slower. A walk that should’ve taken him thirty seconds felt like hours. His vision blurred. As he opened the door, he heard his mother call from the kitchen. 

“Kou? Is that you?.” Her voice echoed. “I’m in here, buddy.” He considered ignoring her-- he  _ really  _ didn’t want to talk right now-- but decided against it. Nothing would piss her off faster. 

“Yeah,” he said, pushing the word past the clog in his throat. He cleared it and tried again. “Yeah, it’s me.” A savory smell flooded his nostrils, but he ignored it. Instead, he slipped his shoes off and booked it. 

_ Please don’t ask, please don’t ask, please don’t ask,  _ He begged. He’d almost made it to his room before--

“Is Keiji-kun with you? I want his opinion on whether or not this needs more ginger.” Koutarou winced.

“I  _ would  _ ask you, but you’ll eat anything I make, darling, which is sweet, really--  _ great for my ego-- _ but I need an honest--” She was rambling, and Koutarou was about thirty seconds from a breakdown. 

“ _ No.”  _

_ Fuck. That was too aggressive.  _

“No?” She sounded distracted, apparently too focused on the food to notice Koutarou’s tone. “No what, baby? No, you  _ don’t  _ like my cooking?” She chuckled, like the thought was absurd. “You always inhale it, you little shit.” 

“No, I mean Keiji’s not here,” Koutarou said. He gnawed on his cheek, wondering whether or not she’d catch on. 

“Oh! I didn’t realize you were planning on heading over to Keiji’s,” she replied, unperturbed. “I wouldn’t have made so much food.” Koutarou knocked his head against the wall with a silent swear. He debated if it was worth lying. 

_ Tell her what a fuck-up you are. Tell her you ruined everything. She’s going to find out eventually.  _

“My bad. I promised him I’d be right back, just had to grab some school work.” 

Koutarou wondered if he’d ever go back to Keiji’s again.

\----------

Keiji’s house was not an option.  _ Clearly.  _ But he couldn’t exactly just stay home. 

Koutarou spent the night at Kuroo’s house. Kenma had shuffled out of his space in Kuroo’s bed, grumbling, but willing to give it up for a night. Although Koutarou insisted he hadn’t needed to, his assurances fell on deaf ears. The little blond proceeded with his makeshift bed beside them, mumbling a goodnight. 

Kuroo gave the puddle on the floor a guilty glance before looking back at Koutarou, shrugging, and holding out a welcoming arm. The minute he did, his best friend was buried in his chest sobbing. Koutarou was inconsolable; his heart felt like a dam, bursting with no reprieve in sight. 

The worst part was that even heartbroken, there was no one he wanted more than Keiji. Keiji’s long fingers stroking through his hair, Keiji’s soft lips whispering comforts into his skin, Keiji’s sweet words,  _ Keiji Keiji Keiji.  _ Keiji could make this better. Keiji could fix this. Keiji could fix  _ anything.  _

_ But Keiji doesn’t want you. Keiji’s  _ **_sick_ ** _ of your  _ **_bullshit._ **

“Keiji,” he gasped out. Kuroo tensed. He’d been patting his friend’s back silently for the last few minutes, but hadn’t said much otherwise. The dark haired boy leaned back, meeting golden eyes rimmed in red. 

“Akaashi? What about--” he stopped. His eyes flickered around Koutarou’s face, gradually widening as he seemingly took it all in. “Oh shit, Bo, I didn’t realize, I just thought it was--” 

“He--” A gasping breath. “He--  _ dumped--  _ he fucking  _ dumped-- “ _ He tried to warble out a sentence, but it was no use. The words felt like they were sticking to his tongue, carving out a home there to prevent themselves from ever being spoken aloud. Luckily, Kuroo seemed to understand. He gaped at Koutarou, eyes widening at the tremble of his lower lip. 

“Akaashi… broke up with…  _ you?”  _ Kuroo sounded flabbergasted. “But he’s like, obses--”

“Just _stop!”_ Koutarou spat weakly. “He’s not ‘ _obsessed’_ with me, he’s not _‘wrapped around my finger’,_ he’s not even fucking in love with me, Kuroo, so just--” his ire fizzled into a low burn, murmuring one final protest. “So [**please**](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PdRjwHQet_A) _stop.”_

Koutarou didn’t sleep much that night. 

\----------

Seeing Keiji at practice Tuesday afternoon was painful. Excruciating, really. Keiji breezed into the gym the way a sun set: beautiful, untouchable, and chilling. He knew he was being obvious, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the setter. Keiji didn’t reciprocate the treatment. Graceful and stoic as ever, he set the ball for his teammates, Koutarou included. That was it. No other sign that Keiji felt even a  _ fraction  _ of the devastation Koutarou had suffered the past few days. Other than the raw tint to his soulmark and drowsy gait, he looked perfect as always. Inky lashes over cobalt eyes that refused to grace Koutarou. 

[ **_Untouchable_ ** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=50VWOBi0VFs) _ ,  _ the word lingered in his mind. 

Koutarou wanted more. He wanted more than this silence between them, this pathetic, sputtering end to the wildfire that had been their lives together. He wanted Keiji to  _ lash out,  _ yell at him, feel  _ something _ . Normally Koutarou could understand the nuances of Keiji’s mood and expressions better than his own. But that day-- nothing. Keiji’s face was that of a marble statue. Anything would be better than  _ this.  _ Bitter, cold, silence. 

The rest of the week continued this way; Koutarou desperate for an ounce of Keiji’s attention, while the younger boy went on with his life. Did his soulmate mean  _ that  _ little to him? If he could just brush this off,  _ their love,  _ why couldn’t Koutarou? 

If anything, from the glimpses he saw of Keiji, he was  _ thriving.  _ The setter was attentive at practice, significantly more so than he had been for the last month. He strolled the halls with Ashikaga draped around him, a soft look in his eyes for the blond. No time to spare Koutarou even a  _ glance.  _

_ You knew this would happen,  _ he reminded himself.  _ This was inevitable.  _

Against his best interest, Koutarou continued to soak up the scraps he got of Keiji throughout the week, finding solace in every part of his soulmate. A flash of dark hair in the halls: how he rose to his tiptoes before dropping from excitement after a good set: the way his sweet voice curled around his words, clear and crisp as morning dew. It was more than enough to make Koutarou cry. 

_ This is the longest I’ve gone without hearing him say my name.  _

Neither of them had told anyone besides Kuroo and Kenma, but they hadn’t needed to-- they apparently weren’t very inconspicuous. Gossip spread through the halls rather quickly. Fabricated tales of fighting, lying,  _ even cheating  _ were spun. The one Koutarou found most painful? Indifference. 

“I heard about you and Akaashi-san,” the brunette in front of him said softly. Tawny lashes whispered across her cheeks when she blinked, framing eyes that were  _ almost _ the right shade of blue. She was pretty. Koutarou missed Keiji. 

The underclassman caught him right as he was entering the gym, pulling him aside with a shy request and nervous eyes. 

_ What was her name? Ito-kun, maybe?  _ he wondered absently. He stayed silent, scratching furiously at his burning soulmark. It had been scalding since the day Keiji left him. 

“I heard about how he, um,” she averted her eyes shyly, a look of discomfort creasing her brows. Her voice lowered, “How he up and left you because he got…” she met his eyes once again, pressing her lips together, “... bored.” Koutarou’s heart dropped further into the pit that was his stomach. 

Maybe they weren’t all rumors. His eyes began to water.

“Oh!” she gasped. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Bokuto-san, I didn’t mean to--” Koutarou wasn’t hearing any of it, vision blurred and ears thundering. He felt the stroke of a petite hand across his lower arm. 

A murmur of, “Oh, no, you’ll make yourself bleed,” as she trailed her arm to his palm, prying open his folded fist. Before he could snap it back from her, she grazed the flaking skin. 

_ Fuck.  _ If he thought it had been burning before, it was  _ scalding  _ now.

“Oh my god,” she flushed, eyes glued to his mark. The hand cradling his own tensed. “I am  _ so sorry,  _ I didn’t mean to!” His own cheeks began to tint. Still in shock, the pair had yet to pull back from each other.

“Ah, no, it’s okay, I know--” he cut off with a choked sound, eyes shooting back to his hand still enveloped by her tiny one. 

The ever-persistent fire that had plagued his palm the last few days was replaced with something worse, a feat Koutarou hadn’t thought possible. Cool waves flashed down his palm, the freezer-burn far worse than the fire. Pins and needles prickled at his whole hand. The shock of the pain caused him to finally yank it back, lifting it to his face to investigate. 

_ Keiji?  _ He furiously glanced around until his eyes settled on his target. 

Koutarou was no poet. He wasn’t particularly good with words, neither in English nor Japanese. The classical books his Lit teachers made him read felt unnecessary, overdone, and honestly-- pretentious. But Bokuto Koutarou could write sonnet upon sonnet about the way Akaashi Keiji made him [**feel**](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1MNukXXhOMA) **.**

From the day they met, every time Koutarou saw Keiji, it was like a punch to the gut. A beautiful,  _ wonderful  _ punch to the gut that was followed by the all-encompassing peace that his soulmate brought to him. Today was no different.

Dark eyes regarded him coldly. Keiji was staring at him as if he were any other stranger, a roadblock in his way. Koutarou was just thankful to have his attention at all. 

_ God, I love you so much,  _ Koutarou wanted to scream.  _ I miss you and your laugh and the way your hair smells and how you always let me stick my cold toes on you and--  _ His inner worship was interrupted by motion on Keiji’s neck: the stroke of a thumb, a shiver. Koutarou hadn’t realized his heart could sink further into the abyss. 

Koutarou wasn’t the only person in the room awestruck by the sight of his soulmate. Ashikaga had an expression like he’d met an angel, umber eyes running laps around Keiji’s face. Koutarou noticed miserably how  _ blessed  _ he looked. The second-year cupped Keiji’s neck tighter in an unconscious attempt to draw him closer. 

“A...kaashi?” the blond choked out. Keiji’s piercing gaze was locked on Koutarou. He recognized that gaze, the biting look of [**apathy**](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3EGqU5Oamv4) in Keiji's eyes; it was uncannily similar to his father’s that horrible day. 

_ I’m sorry, Kou--It’s more complicated than that--I’ll always love your mother and you three-- You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me-- I just can’t-- _

It hurt, watching the love of his life lean in to the touch of another-- of  _ course  _ it did-- but what hurt worse was the message it sent. 

“ _ I’m over it,”  _ Koutarou could hear Keiji’s voice, lovely as ever, even in his head, “ _ Why haven’t you moved on?”  _ Keiji wouldn’t laugh. He wasn’t a mean person, never unnecessarily sharp. “ _ I clearly have.”  _ Maybe a soft glance at the blond beside him. 

“Come on. We’re leaving,” the real Keiji said, dragging a sputtering Ashikaga and the last of Koutarou’s [ **hope**](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DOOk4oCmQuk) along with him. 

Koutarou threw up in the bathroom before practice. It was more bile than anything, really. He hadn’t had much of an appetite these days. 

After exiting, he found himself jittery despite the nausea still swirling in his gut. He started pacing around the perimeter of the gym. Several laps in, the sound of another person’s pattering fell in step beside his own. He chose not to greet his friend. 

“Bo? You good?” Kuroo asked, a question Koutarou had become well acquainted with as of late. He shook his head. “Where’s…” he looked uncomfortable, but continued, “... where’s Akaashi? Practice starts soon.” Koutarou halted in place, bending down on his knees to catch his breath. He squeezed his eyes shut.

“Bo…?” Kuroo probed once again. 

“I don’t know,” Koutarou said miserably, yanking on a strand of bicolored hair. “Probably--” he took another heaving gulp of air. “Probably getting  _ fucked  _ by Ashikaga.” he spat bitterly. The image churned his stomach. Kuroo flinched, raising his hands in shock. 

“Whoa, dude, I don’t--” Koutarou picked himself back up, returning to his jog. Kuroo followed silently behind. 

Their coach rounded them up shortly after, beginning practice before Kuroo could pry much deeper. He considered him from across the net, apprehension clear in his brow. 

Unsurprisingly, Koutarou fumbled all his spikes that afternoon. 

\----------

**RECEIVED: keijikeijikeiji** ʕ•́ᴥ•̀ʔっ♡ **(8:23 AM)**

**If you could come over tomorrow for a bit, that would be great. I have some sweaters and things I should probably return.**

**_Seen 8:24 AM_ **

A text Koutarou had ignored all weekend. 

_ Absolutely not.  _

It was followed by another that Sunday. 

**RECEIVED: keijikeijikeiji** ʕ•́ᴥ•̀ʔっ♡ **(10:30 AM)**

**I have a box. Please come pick it up.**

**_Seen 10:34 AM_ **

Ignored.

**RECEIVED: keijikeijikeiji** ʕ•́ᴥ•̀ʔっ♡ **(10:45 AM)**

**I can tell you’ve seen my text.**

**_Seen 10:46 AM_ **

**RECEIVED: keijikeijikeiji** ʕ•́ᴥ•̀ʔっ♡ **(10:59 AM)**

**Seriously. I need to give you this stuff back. It’s taking up space.**

**_Seen 10:59 AM_ **

_ It’s taking up space.  _

Like any reminder of Koutarou’s presence was an  _ inconvenience.  _

Koutarou hadn’t noticed he had begun to cry until he was scrubbing tears off his cheeks. 

**SENT: keijikeijikeiji** ʕ•́ᴥ•̀ʔっ♡ **(11:03 AM)**

**I really dontt want you to**

**_Seen 11:10 AM_ **

**SENT: keijikeijikeiji** ʕ•́ᴥ•̀ʔっ♡ **(11:03 AM)**

**Please keep it**

**_Seen 11:10 AM_ **

This time Koutarou was the one met with radio [ **silence**.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0ARihVw2mP0)

\----------

The next week that passed followed a similar course of events: indifferent stares from Keiji and pitying ones from others. His mother had quickly noticed Keiji’s absence, but stopped asking after several days. There was a solemn air to their house, unheard of in the Bokuto family, an atmosphere so depressive not even the giggles of the daycare kids could subdue it. 

Koutarou couldn’t remember the last time he had had a “good day”. 

Quiet whispers of their breakup shifted into outright impudent approaches. 

The girl that sat in front of Koutarou in Lit shifted in her seat, wrapping her arm around the back to lean onto his desk.

“So,” she tilted her head, twirling a lock of chestnut hair around her finger. “Bokuto-kun.” He gave an uninvested grunt. “Now that Akaashi-kun and you are over, d’ya think he’d go for a girl?” she asked, eyes looking a little mesmerized at the thought before furrowing in disappointment. “Or is he only into that blond guy?” 

For the first time in his life, Koutarou wished he wasn’t the captain of the volleyball team and that Keiji wasn’t his vice. He wished he weren’t so noisy, a little easier to miss. Less excitable, less wild hair, less  _ loud  _ in general. Because maybe if he was-- no one would give two shits about his breakup with his soulmate. Maybe people wouldn’t be as intrusive, wouldn’t find it as acceptable to say the kinds of things they were. 

The worst part, she didn’t even seem to realize the nerve she had struck. Her expression wasn’t particularly cruel, more curious than anything else. 

“Bokuto-kun?” she asked, voice tinny in Koutarou’s already ringing ears. 

He pushed his chair out and made a beeline for the exit. Who needed Classical Lit anyways?

The first-year boy’s bathroom was a notoriously great place for three things: peace, quiet, and mold. Koutarou ignored the last in favor of the first two. He trekked his way across the school until he finally arrived, immediately slouching against one of the stalls. 

His lungs ached, begging for breath in between sobs. He slammed his fist against the floor, needing  _ some  _ outlet. 

“Fuck!” he hissed, the action jamming his thumb. He shook his hand in a fruitless attempt to subside the pain. Koutarou propped his head back against the wall, panting. Amber eyes slid shut. 

_ Stop thinking. Stop thinking. Stopthinkingstopthinkingstopthinkingstopthinkingst-- _

A throat cleared, causing Koutarou to nearly leap. 

“Wha--?” he called out. A few beats of silence. “Hello?” he tried again. There was some scuffling, and Koutarou finally noticed a pair of red sneakers underneath the door of the stall across from his own. A lock clicked and--

“Uh, Bokuto?” Koutarou’s hackles rose at the looming sight of a familiar blond. 

“Of course,” he laughed dryly. “Of  _ course  _ you would be in here.” His laugh became a little hysterical. “Keiji wasn’t kidding. You are  _ literally  _ everywhere.” Ashikaga flinched at the sound.

“What, uh, what’re you doing in here?” the younger boy muttered. Koutarou barely suppressed a snarl.

“What does it look like, dude?” he scrambled to his feet awkwardly, irritated to be in such a vulnerable position, before raising his hands to gesture at his face. “I’m not having a fuckin’ party.” 

“Shit, calm down, I’m not--” Ashikaga took a stuttering breath, collecting himself before he continued. “I’m not really up for this today, Bokuto.” 

Koutarou paused, finally taking a moment to actually  _ look  _ at the blond. He hadn’t even considered how weird it was for him to be in here to begin with-- nobody just  _ used  _ this bathroom, it was disgusting.

Ashikaga looked like shit; it was a stark contrast from the week before. Normally, he had what Koutarou considered the most punchable face known to man. Today? Not so much. He didn’t look particularly sick or tired, infuriatingly healthy as a horse per usual. The issue was his eyes. 

The typical teasing shine was missing, leaving behind a dull, forlorn brown. The skin around them was puffy, evidence he’d come in for similar reasons. He was the most miserable Koutarou had ever seen him.

Koutarou wanted to bask in this, wanted to feel smug at the sight of a dejected Ashikaga. He hated this guy; this motherfucker ruined his relationship with Keiji.

_ You know that’s not true.  _

Koutarou hated the pity that rose in his chest. 

“What’s wrong with you?” he choked out, going for aloof, but sounding more woeful. Ashikaga raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Me? You’re the one snotting all over the place,” the blond huffed back. “Y’look pathetic.”

Koutarou scowled at him. 

“Why’re you so… why are you  _ like that?”  _ It was a question Koutarou had asked before, but he’d never gotten a solid response-- not that he really expected one now. Even upset, Koutarou doubted the blond could take _ anything  _ seriously for even a minute. “Why do you pick at me so much?” 

Koutarou tensed as Ashikaga approached him, mentally preparing for another fight, but settled when the blond slid down against the wall next to him, gesturing for him to do the same. Obligingly, he did. 

“I don’t particularly like you, Bokuto,” he said, plain and simple. 

_ Never mind. Fuck this guy.  _ Ashikaga continued,

“You have a really great life: all these friends, volleyball captain…” he paused. “Akaashi…” Ashikaga set his jaw, grinding his teeth a little. “But it’s like you don’t even care.” 

Koutarou chuckled bitterly. 

“Don’t really have Keiji anymore, do I?” He hated the way his voice cracked on his soulmate’s name. “You’ve kinda got me beat there.” Koutarou gave his own hair an anxious ruffle. “‘Sides, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Does it really look like I don’t care?” Ashikaga gave him a long, hard look, lingering on the trails of dried tears on his cheeks. “I don’t understand how you’ve gotten this impression that I’m some big--” he pinched the bridge of his nose, frustrated, “-- I don’t know,  _ heartless asshole. _ ” 

The pair were silent for a minute, taking in what Koutarou had said. Ashikaga sighed, shaking his head. 

“Why did you lead Akaashi on so bad?” he asked. “I don’t get it. You obviously care about him, why would you wanna hurt him like that?” As insulting as the question was, the blond didn’t seem ill-intentioned. He genuinely looked baffled, Koutarou feeling just as much so.

“What?” his question was blunt. 

_ What does that …?  _

“ _ What?”  _ he repeated, more mystified by the second. Ashikaga scoffed.

“C’mon man, don’t play dumb. I don’t even get why you’d want someone else when you could have Akaashi,” his voice shrank at the end, sounding awfully small for someone with such an abrasive personality. “I sure don’t.” 

Ah. There it was. That horrible feeling that rose like bile in his throat: a reminder that where Koutarou failed, Ashikaga had succeeded; because at the end of the day, only one of them was still in Keiji’s good graces-- and it certainly wasn’t Koutarou. 

“Still don’t really know what you’re talking about,” Koutarou muttered, picking at the skin on his nails-- a habit he had picked up from Keiji. “Of course I don’t want someone else. He’s all I’ve ever wanted."

This was embarrassing. This was so fucking _embarassing_ to say to Ashikaga, the guy who’d probably spend the weekend with _his_ soulmate. He didn’t even understand why he had to admit this; it was clear to anyone with eyes how enraptured he was with Keiji, how lucky he had been to have him in his life. 

“Y’know, Ashikaga, I always knew you had a thing for Keiji.” Koutarou continued despite the blond’s snort, “I mean, yeah, obviously, but like-- I can’t blame you for it. Sure as fuck hate you, yeah, but can’t really blame you.” His head, still leaning against the dirty stall, tilted toward Ashikaga to meet bemused eyes. “Who  _ wouldn’t  _ want Keiji?” 

_ Nonononononono _ , he thought desperately at the prickle of warmth behind his eyes.  _ Please don’t cry in front of Ashikaga.  _ A nice request, but futile. 

He averted wet eyes, facing back to the stall.

“I know I’m not… right. I know I’m selfish, and moody, and I’m not very smart,” Koutarou said with a self-deprecating smile. “And I know I can be really annoying, and poor Keiji’s had to put up with me our whole lives.” His entire mouth felt dry, parched like the Sahara. “But what I don’t get is what he sees in  _ you. _ ” 

Ashikaga looked a little affronted, leaning back on his wrist with a wrinkled nose. 

“What do you have that I don’t?” he whispered. 

It was a rhetorical question, really. Koutarou was more than aware of  _ everything  _ about Ashikaga that made him a better fit for Keiji: he was witty, enough so to keep up with Keiji and participate in banter where Koutarou couldn’t; he was smart and doting, where Koutarou was goofy and desperate: and  _ god,  _ as much as it pained Koutarou to admit it, he could  _ kind of  _ see how Keiji could find him attractive-- if you were into smirking blond assholes the size of lampposts, of course. 

Koutarou hated him. He  _ hated  _ him. He didn’t want anyone else to see the little parts of Keiji that were kept between them. It wasn’t his place to know how moody Keiji could get when he was hungry, or how to soothe him through a night terror. Ashikaga didn’t  _ deserve  _ to hear the way Keiji cackled and snorted like a goat when Koutarou could get him to loosen up. He wasn’t  _ worthy  _ of the sounds Koutarou could elicit from him, the groans, and whimpers, and moans, and soft promises of “the rest of our lives”. 

But Koutarou couldn’t help but wonder-- why should he be privy to this knowledge instead? How was Koutarou  _ any  _ more justified in loving Keiji the way that he did, more so than Ashikaga? Because they were  _ soulmates?  _

No.

“You know he’s it for me, right?” Koutarou eventually finished his thought. It wasn’t really a question, more a statement of what he considered an undeniable fact. “There might be others for Keiji, but--I’m not… I’m not gonna just be able to bounce back from this like he has.” 

Koutarou sighed, burying his hands in his hair. 

“You can’t move on from the love of your life,” he finally admitted to himself. “ _ I _ can’t.” 

Although he could care less about crying in front of Ashikaga at this point, it was irrelevant; there were no tears left to cry. The well behind his eyes had dried up and been left barren. 

“Bokuto,” Ashikaga said, clearer than before. “I need you to look at me.” Apprehensive, but willing, Koutarou turned. 

The blond closed his eyes beneath his scrunched brow bone, rubbed a hand along the lines of frustration that creased against his forehead. He seemed hesitant to say his next words.

“ _ God,  _ I--” he sighed. “I really hate to say this, I do--”

“Spit it out.” Koutarou wasn’t feeling very patient.

“ _ Fuck off,  _ I literally have never wanted to say anything less in my life,” Ashikaga snapped back. “I’m trying to help you!” 

_ God,  _ the pair were like water and oil. If there was the opposite of a soulmate, Koutarou was  _ certain  _ Ashikaga was that for him. 

“Why,  _ thank you _ , Ashikaga-san, I feel so  _ blessed  _ to receive your help.” Listen, there was just  _ something  _ about Ashikaga that brought out the prick in everyone. 

“Shut--the fuck--  _ christ,  _ can you just talk to Keiji?” Ashikaga at long last spat. Koutarou was too pissed to actually consider what he had said.

“Do  _ not  _ call him that,” he ordered, voice chilling. “I’m not kidding, do  _ not  _ fucking call him that.” Ashikaga rolled his eyes.

“Okay, okay,  _ not the point _ , just, listen to me, yeah?” he insisted. “I know we don’t get along, but trust me on this. Please.” 

Koutarou didn’t want to. He really didn’t want to.

Why the  _ hell  _ should he trust Ashikaga Suoh of all people-- the biggest asshole he’d ever met. As much as his brain told him not to, his gut said otherwise.

“Why?” Koutarou asked, suspicious. “Why would  _ you  _ want me to talk to Keiji?” Ashikaga’s eyes were serious when he said,

“Because I’m pretty sure I’m in love with him, and all I want is what’s best for him-- and right now, that’s you going over there.”

\----------

Koutarou considered his suggestion the entire way home after practice. He was still unsure of what Ashikaga was looking for from him, an apology? A promise to leave Keiji alone so they could get on with…  _ whatever  _ was happening between them?

Not once did Koutarou stop to consider why Ashikaga had been in there himself.

Unfortunately for Koutarou, he wasn’t given much of a chance to make the decision for himself regarding the blond’s request. Keiji made it for him.

Keiji had placed a large cardboard box on his steps, one that he sat on with legs folded over top each other to form a perch for his book while he read. Koutarou approached, but said nothing, just staring at the way the wind blew through dark tendrils, shifting them into Keiji’s eyes. Koutarou’s heart clenched at the way his soulmate huffed in annoyance, attempting to tuck the longer pieces behind his ears only for them to return to their original spot seconds later.

Koutarou cleared his throat, causing Keiji to jump.

“Oh--” he gasped, “I didn’t-- I didn’t see you there…” Keiji immediately turned away, but Koutarou stayed locked on him.  A hush fell over them, cocooning them in their own little world. 

“You never showed up to get your stuff,” Keiji said. Once again, Koutarou felt a spark of irritation at just how  _ lifeless  _ he sounded about this. 

“Maybe I don’t want my stuff back. Why are you acting like we’re never going to talk again? Like you’re not my best friend?” Koutarou fumed. “My  _ vice captain?  _ Even if you’re not showing up to practice…” He snorted, pointing at Keiji’s own house three doors down. “Hell,  _ you’re my neighbor, Keiji.”  _

“Just stop,” Keiji said. He still had yet to look him in the eyes. “I can’t keep looking at all these…  _ things. _ ” A wing of the cardboard box flapped in the wind, the only sound other than their soft breaths. 

“ [ **Keiji** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A61FKX6bGqU) ,” Koutarou breathed. 

“What?” he droned back. 

“Please look at me,” Koutarou found himself begging. 

_ Beg beg beg. That’s all you can ever do.  _

“Please say my name, or look at me, or just give me  _ anything. _ ” Keiji eventually spared him a glance, meeting his eyes to state calmly,

“Can we go to your room so I can collect my things, please?”

Polite as ever.

Formal as ever.

Like talking to a stranger rather than his soulmate. 

Koutarou was too devastated to argue. He pushed past Keiji to open the door, grabbing the box once he stood and making his way past the kitchen. He heard the soft patter of Keiji following behind him.

The older boy stood in his doorway and watched while Keiji rummaged through his drawers. He pulled out cardigans and sweaters, pajama pants left over from sleepovers, socks he left for nights he slept over because he  _ hated  _ the way Koutarou’s were just  _ slightly  _ too small for his feet, stretching the fabric tight over the top of his foot. 

This was hopeless. 

How had things went so sour so fast?

“Why are you being so  _ cold _ , Keiji?” Koutarou asked, anguished. “Why are you treating me like we’re strangers?” 

“I don’t know what you mean, Bokuto-san--”

“God _damnit,_ and now you’re calling me _that?_ ” Koutarou felt so keyed up, he needed _something_ to give here. “You can break up with me, but do _not_ call me that Keiji. Why are you acting like the last fifteen years meant [**nothing**](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KllP4GY6q7I) to you?” 

“Why are  _ you _ calling me that?” Keiji finally snapped back, showing the first emotion Koutarou had seen from him in nearly two weeks. His soulmark felt like it was being shredded from his skin, but Koutarou couldn’t care less. “Stop-- can’t I just-- you are making this  _ very  _ hard to get over you, Koutarou.” 

“I don’t  _ want  _ you to get over me!” Koutarou said desperately. He raked a hand through his hair. He was thankful his mom wasn’t home; their conversation had quickly ascended into yells. Keiji huffed, furiously shoving his clothing in one of Koutarou’s old duffle bags from volleyball camp.

“Whatever, I don’t have time for this.” His voice had returned to its stale, dismissive tone. 

He finished packing, storming his way through the house as if running away, running from  _ Koutarou.  _ Koutarou picked through his brain for a solution,  _ anything  _ to make him stay a second longer. He would spend the rest of his life fighting with Keiji if it meant he’d never leave. Keiji apparently didn’t feel the same.

The dark-haired boy rushed to slip his shoes on, grabbing any previous pairs he’d left behind as well. 

_ Is this it?  _ Koutarou asked whoever was out there, whoever had been  _ cruel  _ enough to give him someone like Keiji only to take him away.  _ Is this it for us? _

Keiji was halfway through the doorway when he paused, shooting Koutarou a tentative glance over his shoulder.

“I-- I need you to answer me one thing. One thing and then I’ll leave and we’ll never have to talk about any of this ever again.”

_ Please don’t do that. Please don’t leave me.  _

“What?” Koutarou struggled to keep his words from shaking. 

Keiji gnawed on his lower lip. Koutarou wanted nothing more than to slip his thumb over it, stop him before he bled. 

“When, um,” Keiji stuttered. “When did you lose interest?” 

“Uhm,” Koutarou said, quietly. “What do you mean?”  He wanted to answer, honestly. He’d do anything Keiji asked him,  _ anything.  _ But--

What? 

“Or… I guess you didn’t lose it,” Keiji gave a short, self-deprecating laugh. “But when did you  _ realize  _ that you weren’t… I don’t know,” he said, shrugging. “It’s stupid, I don’t know.”

“Keiji, I don’t understand,” Koutarou told him. He was tired of the riddles. 

“When did you realize you didn’t--” Keiji flushed. “ _ Want  _ me?” Koutarou guffawed, earning a nasty glare from Keiji. 

“ _ Don’t laugh at me. _ I shouldn’t have asked.” Keiji turned his back to leave, but Koutarou grasped his shoulder pulling him back into the house gently.

“I’m not laughing at you, I just don’t get what you’re saying. When have I ever  _ not  _ wanted you?” he asked incredulously. Keiji groaned, frustrated.

“I don’t just mean sexually, Koutarou, I don’t  _ care,  _ I mean when did you stop, wanting me… like  _ that?”  _ Navy eyes met amber ones, but were still barred off, careful to reveal nothing to Koutarou. 

“Like  _ what?  _ You’re not making sense, Keiji.” 

“When did you fall out of love with me? Or were you never in love with me?” Keiji blurted. “I know it’s stupid, but I just need you to give me this. I  _ need  _ to let go of this, Koutarou.” The gears had shifted, Keiji suddenly the one looking desperate. Koutarou allowed himself to look a little harder, a little deeper into Keiji, and once he did, he couldn’t believe he had missed it.

Keiji was fantastic at crafting a mask of apathy, something he never put up for Koutarou. He never needed to-- Koutarou could see right through him. At least, he thought he could. 

Koutarou had convinced himself that  _ he  _ was the one suffering these past few weeks, that  _ he  _ was the one left a mess of the two of them. Keiji had just shredded through his life, leaving him in pieces while he continued on. He couldn’t have been more wrong.

Keiji’s eyes were sunken, his cheeks looking pale rather than their usual rosy tint. His eyes reeked of desperation and distress, taking in Koutarou’s face like it was the last time he’d ever see it. 

Koutarou lifted his hands, slowly, giving Keiji time to move away if he needed to. He didn’t.

Koutarou grasped Keiji’s cheek with one hand, cupping his palm onto Keiji’s peeling soulmark with the other; the scratching sensation bloomed into a wave of warmth at the contact. There was a hum between their skin where they connected. Keiji gasped a little, eyes fluttering shut as he leaned into the touch. 

“Keiji, open your eyes,” Koutarou said, voice a low timbre in his throat. Keiji’s eyes opened wide at the tone, as if surprised by his soulmate’s anger juxtaposing such a sweet touch. Koutarou tightened his hands, not enough to hurt, but enough to ensure Keiji’s attention was nowhere other than him. 

“Please listen to me  _ very  _ carefully when I say this,” he insisted. “I’m not sure where you got this idea from, but you are wrong.” he shook his head. “Very wrong.”

Keiji’s brows furrowed. He mirrored the action back at Koutarou. 

“I don’t--”

“Keiji, I am beyond in love with you. I am like, embarrassingly, deeply,  _ infatuated  _ with you.” Keiji gasped a little, shaking his head.

“Stop, stop, I don’t want to hear--” Tears were pooling. “This isn’t fair, Koutarou, stop playing--” Koutarou crashed his forehead onto Keiji’s. They both winced at the rough treatment, but the captain continued.

“No, you need to hear this. You need to understand that by walking out that door,  _ you  _ are the one saying  _ you  _ don’t want this. Which is okay. If you don’t want this, we don’t…” He had begun to cry as well. “If you don’t want this, I’ll leave you alone. Or I’ll do whatever you want. I can be just your captain, or your best friend, or your neighbor, I’ll be  _ anything  _ you want from me, Keiji.” 

Koutarou swept up a tear from Keiji’s cheek before it could fall. 

“I’m so in love with you it hurts,” Koutarou whispered, the words pressed into the apple of Keiji’s cheek. Keiji turned faster than he could react, catching his mouth in a kiss. Koutarou didn’t hesitate to deepen it, forcing his tongue into the other’s mouth. Keiji moaned. He wrapped his arms around Koutarou’s neck to pull him in closer, pressing them so tightly Koutarou thought he would get devoured. There was an unfamiliar urgency to their kisses, aggressive and distressed where they were normally slow, intimate. 

It felt like _heaven,_ all of it. The messy slide of their mouths, dancing back and forth, the feel of Keiji’s mark [**_blistering_**](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tMVgLulcGQA) underneath his palm, sounds so loud Koutarou couldn’t even tell who was making them. He’d barely spoken to his soulmate in weeks, better yet _touched._

It all stopped too soon. Koutarou felt the moment Keiji came back to himself, tensing immediately under his ministrations. 

_ Please don’t stop. Please let it be this easy,  _ he begged. 

Keiji pressed his palms into Koutarou’s chest, separating them with a whine from the older boy. Koutarou slipped his arms to Keiji’s waist, tugging him in closer to bury his face in his neck. His breath fanned across the sunburst on Keiji’s neck. 

“Koutarou, no, we can’t-- we need to stop,” Keiji insisted, breathless. Koutarou didn’t know who he was trying harder to convince: Koutarou, or himself. “This isn’t going to work.” Koutarou tried to ignore the onslaught of panic. 

“I don’t understand,” he whimpered. Sable black lashes grazed his cheek as Koutarou pecked kisses along Keiji’s temple. 

“I’m not willing to share you, Koutarou. I can’t do this anymore-- it’s not-- it’s not good for me. I’m not  [ **_happy_ ** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cbazHYqAW-s) _ , _ ” Keiji said softly. He looked ruined by his own words. 

“What?” Koutarou asked absent-mindedly. He was still coming down from the high brought on from Keiji’s presence after so long. He nosed along Keiji’s cheek.

_ God. I missed this.  _

“I said I’m not happy,” Keiji said, harsher this time. Koutarou blanched a little. His eyebrows drew in tightly, hurt etched into his expression.

“You’re not happy with me?” he lamented. He pulled back a little from Keiji. 

“Not the way things have been lately,” Keiji gazed up at him. Koutarou fixated on the gossamer freckles under his eyes, deciding he’s going to kiss them everyday for the rest of their lives-- if Keiji let him. “Koutarou, seriously, you need to listen to me.”

He settled his line of sight back on Keiji’s. Keiji looked caught somewhere between pissed and nervous. 

“I don’t understand  _ why _ you want us to sleep with other people, but I can’t do that, Koutarou. That either stops  _ now  _ or we’re done. I’m not doing this anymore,” Keiji demanded. He raised his chin a little, setting his jaw. “You’re either bored of me, or you’re not, but we’re not doing this back and forth bullshit anymore.” 

Koutarou crumbled. 

“No, no, Keiji.” He brushed a thumb along his brow bone. “There’s no one else, there’s never been anyone else.”

Koutarou could tell he’d said the wrong thing from the way Keiji’s expression closed back up. His shoulders tensed and he began to push out of Koutarou’s grip.

“I’m not a fucking  _ fool,  _ Koutarou,” he hissed. 

“I’m not saying you are! ‘M not lying to you, Keiji.” 

“What about that captain from the party? And ‘Fujita-kun’?” Koutarou laughed again at the absurdity, seemingly enraging Keiji further. After he finally managed to break free from Koutarou’s grasp, he began to back out the door.

“I’m not joking,” he said. Koutarou quickly sobered up.

“Nothing. Nothing happened,” Koutarou swore. “I promise, Keiji.”

“No, this is-- I’m so stupid, how did I let myself get--” Keiji’s face soured in shame as he tugged at his fingers. “Why would you even  _ want  _ to see other people in the first place, Kou?” he questioned. A look of utter hurt crossed his face, “Am I just never going to be enough for you, Koutarou?” 

Koutarou was done letting Keiji slip through his fingers, unwilling to let the sand in their hourglass trickle out. 

“I told you I wanted to see other people because I didn’t want to lose you,” Koutarou confessed. Doubt trickled along his spine. “I thought you would… I thought you’d--” his lower lip began to tremble.

At the sight of tears, Keiji grabbed Koutarou’s hand, dragging him to his mother’s couch. Koutarou wrapped himself around Keiji, burrowing into his hair. After minutes of silence, Keiji spoke into his temple,

“I still don’t understand, baby,” he admitted. “I need more.” 

“My dad, um,” Koutarou swallowed the plug in his throat, praying to any god available that this wouldn’t backfire-- that if Koutarou set his willing heart in Keiji’s hands, he wouldn’t crush it to a pulp. “He got sick of us. He said he wanted--  _ more _ or something, I don’t know.” 

Koutarou pulled back, meeting concerned dark eyes. “I wasn’t there for it… Hisa heard it all, I guess.” 

Koutarou could picture it clear as day: coming home in the winter of his second-year, excited to tell his sisters about practice, only to find his mother sobbing on the couch, curled into Hisa’s arms. Hisa had shaken her head, reaching a hand out to bring Koutarou in as well. 

His mother rarely cried in front of him, reserving tears for two occasions: funerals and weddings. The sight of this powerful woman, possibly the strongest person he knew, reduced to  _ tears _ \-- if anything was enough to light a spark of fear in Koutarou, it was  _ that.  _

Before that day, in Koutarou’s eyes, there had never been a love stronger than his parents’. When he was young, he used to dream about the way his father watched his mother dance in the kitchen fondly, as if there weren’t a sight more beautiful in the world. Barely double-digits and Koutarou was already wondering who would be the dancer: Keiji or him? 

“ _ I don’t know, Kou,” Hisa had whispered late that night. Their mother was passed out with her head in Hisa’s lap, mascara left in trails down her cheeks as Koutarou stroked blond tendrils away. “It just… it escalated so fast. I was in the bathroom when I heard yelling and I just--” she sniffled, wiping snot from underneath her nose. “I come out and he’s telling her he’s done, that he can’t… he can’t spend the rest of his life wishing he’d had something more.”  _

Something more.  _ Something more.  _

The sympathy tears were a wicked thing; both soulmates were sniveling as Koutarou explained. They were wrapped up in each other, speaking soft whispers into the skin of each other’s faces. 

“I thought maybe if I got ahead of it…” Koutarou murmured the words against Keiji’s cheek. “I thought maybe you wouldn’t leave me. I thought I could keep you from getting sick of me, Keiji.” 

As much as it scared him to feel this  _ naked,  _ this vulnerable-- even in front of his soulmate-- there was relief as well. Koutarou had kept the secret for so long, letting the worry fester in him until it nearly ruined his relationship. 

“Why would I ever be sick of you, sweetheart?” Keiji hummed the words into Koutarou’s ear, a bewitching sound. “There’s no one else I’ve ever wanted.” 

Koutarou nearly trembled at the intimacy. Keiji was  _ so close  _ and it had been  _ so long  _ and he was being so  _ so  _ saccharine sweet. Koutarou nudged at his cheek until Keiji moved where he wanted him, sharing each other’s  [ **oxygen** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L4sbDxR22z4) .

“I thought you were sick of me, you know.” Even though he tried to hide it, the older boy could hear the anxiety in Keiji’s voice, the insecurity. 

“I could never be sick of you,” Koutarou breathed into his mouth. Keiji tilted his head to the side, readying for a kiss before Koutarou leaned back, a look of confusion knitting in his brows. 

“Why did you ever agree to it in the first place? You could’ve told me no.”

Keiji wrinkled his nose. 

_ Wow. I missed that cute nose,  _ he thought, sappily. 

“What, and have  _ you  _ leave  _ me?”  _ he asked incredulously. Koutarou chuckled, smacking wet kisses along Keiji’s jaw, more affectionate than seeking. 

“ _ As if, _ ” he huffed. “We all know  _ I’m  _ the lucky one in this relationship, Keiji.” 

“‘ _ As if’  _ my ass,” Keiji mimed back. “I’ve spent the last two months watching people try to climb you like a tree.” Koutarou’s mark prickled at the statement, as if agreeing.

_ Fucking traitor,  _ he thought to himself. 

“You’re so full of it,” Koutarou chuckled. “Who?”

When Keiji tried to sit back in his lap, Koutarou grabbed at his waist to prevent him from going far. He’d always been clingy but never this bad. It was like every part of his body was  _ begging  _ for the feel of Keiji against him. Keiji shot him a dubious look. 

“Are you kidding, Kou?” It was as if he couldn’t believe his ears. Koutarou shrugged.

“Uh… no?” 

“That girl who was flirting with you? The captain from that party who  _ felt you up _ ?” he probed. “This ‘Fujita-kun’ kid? Any of this ringing a bell?” 

Koutarou wondered if the next words were gonna get his ass beat. 

“Uhm. Fujita-kun  _ is  _ the captain from the party. I don’t think he felt me…” he trailed off at the glare on Keiji’s face.

“ _ He’s  _ the one who’s been texting you?” Keiji looked ready to kill a man. Koutarou really hoped it wasn’t him. 

_ You are absolutely not allowed to get a boner from him being pissed at you. This is not sexy. This is not sexy. This is bad and he is mad. He is totally 100% not the most glorious thing ever looking like he’s going to murder you.  _

“Does it help if I promise you it’s not like that? And that he’s been telling me how stupid I am for this ‘deal’ since we became friends?” Koutarou offered sheepishly. Keiji’s eyes stayed narrowed, but Koutarou noticed the way his shoulders laxened. “Besides, you’re one to talk. I thought you had left me to date Ashikaga, how ridiculous is that?” Koutarou laughed at the thought. Keiji didn’t. 

“Keiji…?” Koutarou got a little nervous at the discomfort on his soulmate’s face. “Uhm… you guys didn’t…?” Keiji shook his head rapidly.

“No, no, never with anyone but you,” he hesitated, leaning his head down to hide his eyes. Koutarou nearly swooned at the swish of dark curls falling across his forehead. “But um…”

_ But?  _ **_But what?_ **

"He did kiss me.” Koutarou bristled a little, unable to help puffing his chest. “Slow your roll, I pushed him off…” Koutarou didn’t feel very assured. 

“Did you like it?” Koutarou was absolutely  _ not  _ pouting. Keiji shrugged. If it hadn’t been for the teasing tilt to his smile, Koutarou might’ve exploded. 

“I don’t know why it matters,” Keiji said, casually, as he massaged long fingers into the back of Koutarou’s scalp. He nearly moaned at the feeling. Soothing circles were followed by a surprising yank, pulling Koutarou’s head to reveal his neck, eyes directed to the ceiling. Keiji leaned over him, whispering in his ear. “Everyone knows who we belong to.” Hot breath dampened his neck, followed by another yank. Keiji ground down on him. 

“Oh--fuck, god,” Koutarou groaned out. Keiji continued to swivel his hips along Koutarou’s lap, lapping his tongue on the spot behind Koutarou’s ear where his neck met his hairline. “Fff--fuck.” He gasped out. Keiji was still way too composed for someone who hadn’t gotten laid in weeks. Koutarou buried his hand in dark curls, treating Keiji to a tug of his own. Keiji moaned. 

“I missed this so much. I missed  _ you _ so much.” Koutarou was babbling. “God, I love you.” Keiji tucked his fingers into Koutarou’s hair to cup his jaw, guiding his face toward him as he continued practically dry-humping his  [ **soulmate** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_TjPmQp0WRo) . He swiped his thumbs along Koutarou’s cheeks. 

“You’re mine, right?” Although Keiji technically asked, it sounded more like a demand. Koutarou nodded enthusiastically, throwing his head back at another grind. “And I’m yours?”

“Yes, _yes, yes, god.”_ Koutarou was _so close,_ he didn’t even have it in him to be embarrassed at coming this quickly. Right before he could tip over the edge, Keiji stopped. 

“Wha--?  _ Wha--?”  _ Koutarou whined, confused. Keiji had a smug grin tugging at his cheeks.

“We can’t fuck on your couch, Kou,” he said, matter-of-factly. “But there’s a perfectly good  [ **bedroom** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P1aO4EU61Uw) about five meters that way.” 

Words had never sounded so sweet to Koutarou’s ears. 

They were nowhere near done talking-- the pair had weeks to make up for. But for now, it was enough. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guysssss you are way too nice to me. waaay too nice <3 it literally makes me smile so hard. thank u so much for all the kudos, comments, bookmarks, hits, etc. etc. I hope this lives up to your expectations!! <3


	10. They Were Inevitable.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I know, Keiji,” he said. “You’re pretty much it for me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jhndfsnsjkfdsjsdkafkjsfadbkjfdsbhjdsfbfadsbjfdbjhf 
> 
> i finished it. 
> 
> THIS IS THE FIRST THING I'VE EVER FINISHED.
> 
> i love writing so much lmao i already know what i'm gonna start next this week!!! I've got so much planned but so little time. ughhhh
> 
> can i just say-- thank you SO MUCH FOR ALL THE LOVE AND SUPPORT AND ENCOURAGEMENT? I LITERALLY LOVE YOU ALL? YOU'VE BEEN SO WONDERFUL TO ME thank u <3 thank u for sticking with my story and enjoying it. it means so much. 
> 
> im literally gonna miss writing this so much tho.

A kiss to his right cheek.

Another to his left. 

Little pecks were scattered across his face, never lingering long, whispers of affection murmured in between. The bed creaked in protest when Koutarou leaned back to speak, 

“Gotta wake up, gorgeous,” the smile was audible in his voice. 

Groaning, Keiji stretched his arms above his head. The movement pressed him further into Koutarou, who pulled him closer with little hesitation. When his eyes finally fluttered open, it was to a lovely sight.

Koutarou was turned on his side to lean over him, gazing down at him with a charming clinginess rather than an oppressive one. A mix of primitive pride and arousal burned low in Keiji’s belly at the sight of his soulmate’s tousled hair and thoroughly marked chest. He smacked his lips, grimacing at the aftertaste of sleep. 

The two were clearly not on the same page; where Keiji felt horny, Koutarou was cloying. 

He leaned back down, smacking wetter kisses everywhere: from Keiji’s face to his neck. He trailed a line up from his soulmark, ignoring the little shiver it elicited in favor of burying a final smooch in Keiji’s curls. Keiji pouted at the sound of a deep inhale.

“Is this why you woke me up? To sniff my hair?” Keiji groaned, eyes slipping back shut. Koutarou nuzzled harder and wrapped his arms around Keiji’s head to press it into his bare chest. 

“No!” He giggled when Keiji planted his own kiss on a mark he’d left earlier. “I just thought--” he stuttered a little, giggles turning into a gasp when Keiji ran his tongue along his sternum. “I thought-- we should get dres--sed?” It came out as a question in between pants. 

Keiji flopped back onto his pillow with a bemused glare.

“Why would we get dressed?” He hated how petulant he sounded. “Why would I want to do that?” Koutarou beamed at him.

“Aw, Keiji!” Koutarou whined. “Y’know my mom’s gonna kill us if she comes home and sees even a  _ little  _ bit of ass.” Unconsciously, his hand shifted closer to the ass in question. “We  _ gotta  _ get dressed.” He sounded as if the thought saddened him. 

Like the subtle man he was, Keiji grabbed his soulmate’s dick. Koutarou would’ve been mortified if he’d been cognizant enough to hear the shriek he’d made. 

“Why’d you kiss all over me if you didn’t want to fuck again?” Keiji asked, vengeful and heavy-eyed, followed by a twist of his wrist. Koutarou moaned low in his throat, collapsing onto Keiji and crushing the currently occupied hand. He snapped his eyes open when they began to flutter.

“Those--  _ ah, fuck--  _ were supposed to be innocent--  _ you pervert.”  _

“Okay, well, now I’m  _ innocently  _ giving you a handjob.” 

Keiji: 1, Koutarou: -1. 

Luckily enough for them, Sango wasn’t back until early afternoon (thankfully, when everyone was dressed). The pair were making lunch when they heard the front door open. 

She must’ve followed the sounds of clinking dishes, her voice getting louder as she approached, “Hi Kou-- and--  _ Keiji _ ?” Her eyes swung between her son and his soulmate, eyes wide. She tilted her head at Koutarou, vying for an explanation.

“Uhm,” she said, fixing her posture, “Hi darlin’.” 

“Hi Auntie,” Keiji said with a soft smile. “You look pretty today.” And she did. She looked beautiful, long blonde hair falling across her shoulders, shimmering pink on her eyes to match the bright sundress-- but it certainly wasn’t a look that screamed ‘ _ back from brunch with the girls’.  _

“Thanks...” Her voice was hesitant, likely still bewildered from before. “I, uhm... I had a date.” Just like that, Keiji’s good mood was crushed. He glanced at Koutarou nervously. 

The last time Keiji’d been here for this conversation, it hadn’t exactly ended well. A happy Koutarou was possibly the sweetest thing to grace this earth, an angel sent from above to bless Keiji and everyone else lucky enough to know his soulmate. But a pissed Koutarou? A pissed Koutarou was  _ mean,  _ resentful words and dismissive snark; his golden eyes would send a shiver down Keiji’s back-- but not in the way he’d have liked. There was no transition from warm to cold with Koutarou, it was one swift, unpredictable movement. 

As per usual, the silence from Koutarou was unnerving. He was just normally so  _ loud.  _ Keiji feared the quiet was a precursor to an explosion--  _ especially  _ after their conversation this morning. Sango did as well, if the gnaw of her cheeks was anything to go by. 

So imagine their shock at the faint upward tilt to his lips. 

“He’s right, y’look pretty, Mama.” 

Keiji couldn’t hold back an audible sigh. Sango’s eyes looked like melted chocolate when she smiled.

“Thanks, Kou,” she turned back to Keiji. “I missed seeing your face around here, sweetheart.” 

It wasn’t everything. It  _ certainly  _ wasn’t enough-- there needed to be an open dialogue, a conversation between Koutarou and his mother. But with Koutarou’s words, came a promise of  [ **peace** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u1ca6bcLuMI) . 

\----------

For the first time in weeks, Koutarou drove them to school again. Sliding back into their routine was familiar,  [ **_comfortable_ ** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X_yAXPH8O-k) _ ,  _ like slipping on a favorite pair of pajamas. Koutarou was a little clingier than usual, but Keiji delighted in all the attention. He chatted Keiji’s ear off the entire way to the cafeteria that Monday morning. His rant about how “no, Keiji, I’m not crazy, colors  _ do  _ have a taste” was interrupted as they approached their old spot.

“Oh my  _ god,  _ the world has  _ finally  _ righted itself once again!” Konoha cheered, practically bursting out of his seat to plant his hands on each soulmate’s shoulder. “Guys, I thought you’d be all  _ weird  _ forever and we’d never have a team breakfast again.”

_ This is hardly a ‘team breakfast’,  _ Keiji thought. He ignored saying how much he’d missed it as well; validating Konoha would only lead to further yelling. Kenma and Kuroo were still planted in their seats, opposite expressions on their faces. Kuroo looked near tears with the utter relief in his smile. Kenma, on the other hand, barely looked surprised at all. In fact, he looked rather smug. 

“Of course, they fixed things,” the stoic blond said. “They’re Keiji and Koutarou.” A warm, fuzzy feeling squeezed at Keiji’s heart. 

“Mm, yeah.” Keiji tugged at the sleeve of Koutarou’s uniform, pulling him toward him to kiss his cheek in a rare display of public affection. “Of course.” 

Keiji glanced around for another familiar blond, but had no luck. Ashikaga had been avoiding him for over a week now, and he  _ really  _ needed to talk to him. Keiji voiced such, ignoring his sulking soulmate beside him. Although a little lost and uncomfortable, Konoha answered,

“Uhm, dunno. Hasn’t been around much since you bailed, ‘Kaashi-kun.” 

_ Well. That won’t do.  _

“Why not? Did you tell him he couldn’t be?” Keiji tried to keep the prickle out of his voice. Kuroo shook his head immediately.

“No, no,” he assured. “I think he just felt… awkward.” Keiji sighed, ruffling his bangs back. He leaned into his soulmate’s shoulder to whisper in his ear,

“I’m going to go find him, Kou, I’ll be right back.” When he pulled away, Koutarou loosely tugged him back by his arm. He had a gentle smile on his face, but Keiji could see the nerves hidden behind it. 

“D’ya want me to come with?” he murmured back. The setter shook his head.

“No, it’s okay. I think we should talk alone. I won’t be long.” He grazed his pointer finger across Koutarou’s open palm, enjoying the little burst he felt from his own mark. Koutarou nodded, understanding. “You should check the first year bathrooms.” 

Although confused, Keiji didn’t bother asking why. 

On his walk over, he tried to settle his escalating nerves. Talking wasn’t really… a strong suit, for him. 

Dismissing his unease, he cracked the door open and listened for any hint that his soulmate had been right but was met with nothing. A peek inside confirmed it was empty as well. With a disappointed sigh, Keiji leaned his weight off the door to let it slide shut. He caught it with an arm at the sound of a scuffle.

“Ashikaga?” he called out. The scuffling stopped. A few moments before,

“‘Kaashi?” 

The sound of his voice made Keiji want to cry. Never mind that he’d spent the last week  _ missing it,  _ but the way he spoke as well: tired, shy, generally so unlike his normal self. 

“Yeah,” he said. “It’s me.”

…

“Oh,” the blond croaked back, then, a throat clearing, “I mean, hi.” 

Keiji walked in, letting the door slide shut behind him in lieu of following his friend’s voice. He found him in the last stall, leaning against the wall. 

“You probably could’ve picked a cleaner place, you know…” Keiji teased gently, wrinkling his nose at the sight of Ashikaga so close to a toilet. “I was kind of hoping we could talk without the risk of contracting something from the ground.” Ashikaga gave a weak snort.

“Don’t be such a baby.” Keiji could tell he was trying to sound nonchalant, but was failing miserably. The pain in his voice was clear. 

Sucking it up, Keiji nudged his leg, sliding into the space beside him when he moved. He tried to ignore the sound of Ashikaga’s breath speeding up. Keiji was such a fool.

_ How did I never notice…?  _

The two sat in amicable silence for what felt like eons. Ashikaga was a comforting warmth at his side, a nice presence after the week he’d had. He hoped the feeling was mutual. 

_ I don’t know how to fix this,  _ Keiji realized. But he  _ wanted to.  _ He wanted to  _ so bad.  _

“You’re easily one of the best things that’s come out of these last few shitty months for me,” Keiji started nervously. 

_ Wait-- no-- does that sound like--?  _ He absolutely did not want to make this about him and his feelings. This was about  _ Ashikaga.  _

“What I mean is,” he swallowed. “Is that I’m really,  _ really  _ grateful to have met you.” He couldn’t bring himself to look at the blond as much as he wanted to. He was scared of what he’d see. “And that my life is a lot better with you around.” Keiji picked at his fingers, peeling back at the skin around his nails.

Ashikaga took so long to respond Keiji was afraid he wouldn’t at all, “Ditto.” 

Keiji snorted. Ashikaga chuckled as well, bumping the other’s shoulder with his own.

“What? I’m serious. Ditto.” 

Keiji finally met warm brown eyes, relieved to see not a trace of anger, just pure affection. 

“I’ve never had a friend like you before, and I’d really rather not lose you,” Keiji continued. “So what can I do to fix this?” Ashikaga groaned, knocking his head against the wall and squeezing his eyes shut.

“No, no, don’t do that  _ thing. _ ” 

_ What thing?  _ Keiji thought. 

“What  _ thing?”  _ he echoed aloud. 

“That  _ horribly  _ charming little thing where you apologize for something that is so  _ obviously  _ not your fault.” Keiji flushed.

“I’m-- I don’t--  _ you’re avoiding me, _ ” he huffed, a little exasperated. “I don’t want you to avoid me forever.” 

“I’m not  _ avoiding you,”  _ Ashikaga argued. “And I’m not mad at you. There’s nothing for you to fix, ‘Kaashi.” He lifted a finger towards Keiji’s wrist before thinking better of it. “It’s not your fault you’re in love with Bokuto.” He grimaced after. “Although I personally do  _ not  _ get it.” The blond leaned his head on Keiji’s shoulder. The action was purely platonic, a friend seeking comfort from another-- even if said friend had a thing for him. 

“Though it’s not really my place to understand, is it?” Ashikaga heaved a sigh. 

Keiji hated that he hurt him. He wished he could take the pain away, but didn’t see a plausible means of  _ how.  _

“You know I do [**love**](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T0AkqCVc0KA) you, right?” Ashikaga said. Keiji tried to pretend the sentence didn’t startle him.

“Ditto.” 

Ashikaga laughed again, except this time the sound was bright and endearing and  _ right  _ in his ear. Despite his wince, Keiji had never been more relieved to hear that smarmy laugh. 

“But not like that, yeah?” Ashikaga confirmed. Keiji nodded, feeling a little guilty. Ashikaga shook his head, chuckling as he settled back into the other’s shoulder. 

“This is like, the nicest rejection ever,” the blond joked. “What happened to that mouthy little shit from the last few months?” Keiji wanted to nestle further into him, relish in having his friend so close again after such an exhausting week, but decided against it. The last thing he wanted was to give him the wrong idea.

“Dunno. What happened to sitting at the lunch table with me and harassing me every waking minute?” he shot back playfully, before his tone turned more serious.

“You should come back, y’know… when you’re feeling up to it. Kuroo and Konoha miss having you around. Kenma won’t say it, but he probably does too,” he paused. “I obviously miss you too.” 

Ashikaga sighed. “As much as I’d love to take you up on that, I think your boyfriend might kill me,” he chuckled, “And I mean, rightfully so.” Keiji nudged his arm. 

“Mm. Kou will live.” 

The two enjoyed each other’s missed presence until their first class nearly started, trading jabs back and forth.  As they both stood, legs asleep from sitting too long and joints cracking in protest, Ashikaga grasped at his sleeve.

“Can I hug you?” he asked shyly. Keiji didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around him, tugging him in close. 

“Stop making it sound like we’re never going to talk again. You’re still going to be my friend, aren’t you? Who else is going to bully me and distract me during class?” Keiji wanted to sound like he was joking, but the worry in his voice rang through clearly. 

_ I really don’t want to lose you.  _

After the initial shock of the touch, Ashikaga squeezed him tightly, burrowing into his hair. 

“Of course.” 

Keiji pulled back before the hug could go on for too long; he had a feeling Ashikaga would’ve let it. Ashikaga held his elbows in his arms, analyzing his face. 

“Can I ask one last thing, and then I can just-- work on getting over this?” Ashikaga said, voice quiet as he stared at Keiji’s jaw. Keiji hummed an affirmative.

“ If-- if it weren’t… for Bokuto…” Keiji cut him off; he couldn’t encourage this. 

“I think it’s best if you don’t think of it like that, Ashikaga. It’s never _not_ going to be Koutarou,” Keiji insisted. He cared about Ashikaga, _a lot,_ but he was _his friend._ Koutarou was _his_ _person._ Ashikaga smiled sadly. 

“Fair enough, ‘Kaashi. C’mon, let’s go.” 

\----------

“What happened to ‘ _ I’ll be right back’?”  _ Koutarou grumped. 

He’d immediately fallen back into their habit of walking Keiji between classes, something the younger boy was grateful for. Although, he could’ve done without the tension between his soulmate and Ashikaga when their eyes met. Unfortunately, even if not walking together, Ashikaga tended to exit the class  _ with  _ Keiji. 

“Don’t be such a baby, Kou.” Keiji subtly raised his hand to brush his fingertips along his soulmate’s palm, soothing along the mark in small strokes as they walked. “You know nothing happened.” 

“I know,” Koutarou said, petulantly. 

\----------- 

Possibly the only person more excited than themselves to see the boys reunited, was Mai. 

“Oh my god,” she blubbered. “I  _ hate  _ it when you two fight.” She was grabbing at Koutarou’s face, smacking kisses on his hairline. His smile gleamed bright at her. “I miss seeing you boys together.” 

“Me too, Auntie, but it’s okay-- we’ll  _ never  _ fight again,” he assured. Keiji rolled his eyes, scoffing lightly.

“That’s not… sure. Sure, Koutarou.” 

_ Let him believe it. You probably won’t argue for another decade anyways.  _

Later that night, as Keiji listened to the thundering drum of his soulmate’s heart, he turned into his chest to mumble,

“What’s got your heart going so fast, baby?” His lips pressed against skin as he spoke. 

“You.” Short, sweet, and simple. Keiji climbed up further along his soulmate’s body, taking his face off his chest to press their foreheads together. 

“I love you,” Keiji whispered, as if speaking in reverence. “So much.” Koutarou rubbed their noses together; his eyes squinting from the utter joy in his smile. 

“I love  _ you, _ ” he answered. “And I’m so sorry I ever made you think any differently.” Keiji smiled against his cheek. 

“Thank you.” he said, and then, “I love you,” once again. Couldn’t hurt to reiterate. 

Koutarou flipped their positions, pinning Keiji to the bed before he could react. He kissed him over and over, each one followed by a “I love you”. Keiji chuckled, pushing his head away. 

“Stop, stop it, you sap.” 

Rather than removing his hand, he cupped Koutarou’s face instead, stroking a line across a strong cheekbone. Dark blue eyes danced with golden ones, matching the swirls of their marks. 

“You know we’re not your parents, right?” Keiji murmured. Koutarou propped up on his left arm, using his right one to practically massage his own mark into Keiji’s. 

“I know, Keiji,” he said. “You’re pretty much  _ it  _ for me.” 

Keiji felt gooey at the words, less of a person and more a pile of  _ mush,  _ ready to melt into his soulmate. 

“You’re pretty much  _ ‘it’  _ for me too,” he promised.

_We were pretty much_ [**_inevitable_** _,_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TQqDaZ9pkzY) _weren’t we?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u so much for all the love and support i've gotten on this fic. it means the world. if you ever wanna chat, my tumblr is bubble-tea-and-biodiversity, LITERALLY MESSAGE ME ABOUT ANYTHING <3 i will sit and talk about whatever.


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